*-*3jK£J  •  • -> 


MB 


mm 


cs*s 


aB|aa9W£»f 


ieneeit  feife  * 
+  In  tbe  Mes 


3ai«es  S.  jfMes 


iUn''l'i«liBWTilTrtiWmTTft 


fyjr  %,M 


ik 


i 


4UT0BI0GRAPHY 


REV.  JAMES   B.  FINLEY 


PIONEER  LIFE  IN  THE  WEST 

/'JtplTJLfi-  BY  :    .  ,;    '' 

W.  P.  STRICKLAND    D.  D. 


CINCINNATI : 
CRANSTON     AND    CURTS. 

NEW  YORK: 
HUNT    AND    EATON. 


F- 


D 


PREFACE. 


Don't  run;  I  shall  not  be  long-winded.  Jusi 
hold  on  a  moment,  as  I  have  but  few  words  to  say. 
I  always  did  despise  long  introductions  to  sermons, 
and  scarcely  ever  listen  to  one  with  any  degree  of 
patience.  I  have  an  equal  dislike  to  a  long  intro- 
duction to  a  book,  and,  hence,  verbum  sat. 

The  following  pages  contain  a  brief,  unvarnished 
narrative  of  the  incidents  of  my  life ;  and  as,  in  the 
providence  of  God,  I  was  permitted  to  grow  up  with 
the  west,  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  people 
of  the  west,  to  be  made  more  fully  acquainted  with 
my  somewhat  eventful  history. 

For  upward  of  forty  years  I  have  been  constantly 
engaged  in  preaching  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  the  woods,  cities,  and  villages  of  the  west;  and 
nearly  all  that  time,  with  few  exceptions,  such  as  I 
have  noted,  my  name  has  been  on  the  effective  list 
of  traveling  preachers. 

My  time,  with  what  talents  I  had,  has  all  been 
consecrated  to  the  Church  of  my  choice,  and  now, 
after  the  lapse  of  almost  half  a  century  in  the  serv- 
ice of  the  Church,  I  would  not  recall  what  I  have 
done  and  suffered  for  Christ's  sake.  The  only  regret 
that  I  have  is,  that  I  did  not  accomplish  more. 

While  the  work  was  going  through  the  press,  I 
was  engaged  in  the  enterprise  of  building  a  new 

i*28838 


4:  PREFACE. 

churcn,  the  one  occupied  by  my  charge  being  too 
small.  Part  of  my  time  has  been  employed  in  rais- 
ing funds  for  this  object,  and  I  am  pledged  to  see 
this  infant  Church  through  its  difficulties. 

The  proceeds  of  this  work,  after  paying  the  ex- 
penses of  its  publication,  are  to  be  appropriated  to 
a  benevolent  object;  and  I  trust  it  may  meet  with 
favor  among  the  thousands  of  Christian  friends  with 
whom  in  life  I  have  had  pleasant  communion,  and 
with  whom  I  hope  to  spend  a  happy  eternity  in  the 
communings  of  a  better  world. 

J.   B.   FlNLEY 
Cincinnati,  Ohio,  May,  1863. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
His  parentage — State  and  condition  of  the  country  at  that  day— Mis- 
sion of  his  father  to  North  and  South  Carolina — Civil  war — Tory  party — 
Tory  Major — Patriotic  songs — Charles  Wesley — His  mother — Grand- 
mother— Excitement  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  on  Psalmody — Th# 
Methodist  preacher — Emigration  to  Kentucky — Trip  down  the  Ohio — Ef- 
forts by  Indians  to  decoy  the  boats  to  shore — Fate  of  Rev.  Mr.  Tucker — 
Maysville — Death  of  his  grandmother — Removal  to  Washington,  Mason 
county,  Kentucky — Simon  Kenton — Girty — Kenton's  conversion — Mode  of 
administering  justice — Stocton's  Station — Visit  of  the  Indians — Their 
depredations — Stratagem  of  his  mother — Captain  Cassady — Melancholy 
event — Early  love  of  the  chase — Wolves — Canebrake — My  father's  con- 
gregation— Opens  a  high  school — Importance  of  education.  ••  -Pages  15-42 

CHAPTER  II. 
Backwoods  character — Immigration — Hatred  of  the  Indians — Army  un- 
der Gen.  Harmar — Spies — M'Arthur  and  Davis — Incidents — Thrilling  ad- 
venture of  two  spies — Spies  appointed  by  Gen.  Wayne — Capt.  W.  Wells — Ex- 
traordinary feat — Dispatch  to  take  an  Indian  prisoner — Adventure — Sin- 
gular recognition — Capture  of  a  Potawatomie  chief— An  instance  of  hu- 
manity— Dispatch  for  another  prisoner — A  daring  act — Wells  and  M'Clel- 
and  wounded — Irving's  account  of  M'Cleland — Anecdote  of  a  trapper — > 
Pioneer  bravery — The  soldier-boy — Mrs.  Hunter  and  the  Indians.-  ••43-68 

CHAPTER    III. 

Life  in  the  backwoods — Food  and  dress — Cabins — Backwoods  wedding — 
Hie  Buffalo — Mode  of  catching — Mills  of  the  early  settlers — Game — The 
alk — Bear — Adventure  with — The  deer — The  panther — The  wolf—The 
coon — Sports  with — The  opossum — Hunter's  life — Backwoods  dress. -69-98 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  army  of  Wayne — Land  Speculators  in  Kentucky— Col.  Massie— 
Meeting  at  Manchester — Exploration  of  the  Scioto  country — Skirmish 
with  the  Indians — Another  party — Cultivation  of  land  on  the  Scioto — 
Town  of  Chilicothe  laid  out — Zane's  trace — Remarks  on  progress — First 
wagon  driven  to  Chilicothe — Beauty  of  Scioto  bottoms — My  first  visit — 
Diseases  of  the  country — Murder  of  an  Indian — Robbery — The  first  hote! 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

in  ChiLcothe — First  store — First  physician — First  ministers — First  legis- 
lature— Court — Trial  by  jury — Emancipation  of  slaves — Trip  to  Ohio- 
Destination — Winter  camps — Hardships — Indian  Antidote — Fondness  for 
Indian  life — Early  education — Study  of  medicine — Drove  of  cattle — Jour 
ney  to  Detroit — Hardships  encountered. Pages  99-118 

CHAPTER  V. 
Backwoods  biography — Captain  Cassady — Taken  prisoner  by  the  Indt 
ans — Mercer  Beason — Melancholy  end — Bazil  Williams — His  fieetness— 
Duncan  M'Arthur — His  character  as  a  spy — Responsible  offices — John 
M'Donald — A  brave  man — Boys  of  those  days — Horrible  tragedy — M'Doiv- 
aid  joins  Wayne's  army— Surveying  tour — Encounter  with  Indians — Na- 
thaniel Massie's  company — His  character — Peter  Lee — Nathaniel  Beasly— 
William  O'Banion. 119-134 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Tragical  occurrence — Death  of  Capt.  John  Herrod — The  cold-blooded 
murder  of  Wawilaway  by  Wolf — Death  of  Williams — Great  excitement — 
Tecumseh — Council  at  Chilicothe — Peace  restored — Trials  of  early  set- 
tlers— Mr.  Atkinson  and  family — House  attacked  by  a  bear — Brave  con- 
duct of  the  daughter 135-146 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Return  to  personal  narrative — Winter  spent  in  hunting — Bear  hunt — 
Holiday  sports — Marriage  and  housekeeping — Farming — Hunting — Young 
folks  of  that  day — Fashionable  life — Rev.  John  Collins — Country  schools — 
Sabbath-breaking — Bear  hunt — Loss  of  property — Solitude  of  the  wilder- 
ness— Adventure  with  a  bear. 147-160 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Early  religious  education — Catechetical  instruction — Conversation  with 
my  father  on  election — Winchester's  Dialogues — Presbyterian  elder — Card- 
playing — Dancing — Great  revival  of  religion  in  Kentucky — Meeting  at 
Cane  Ridge — Sensations  produced — Conviction — Mayslick — Pious  Ger- 
man— My  conversion — Early  experience — Persecution  from  the  world — 
Exercises  on  the  subject  of  preaching — Awful  conclusion — Relapse  into 
sin — Alarm  and  conviction  occasioned  by  the  accidental  discharge  of  a 
gun 161-174 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Awful  temptation — Russel's  Seven  Sermons — Methodist  preaching — Class 
meeting — Reading  the  Scriptures,  and  prayer — Reclamation — Vows  to 
God — Myself  and  wife  join  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church — Meeting  at 
Fowler's — Exhortation — Advice  of  the  pious,  old  German  friend — Erect 
a  meeting-house — Quarterly  meeting  at  Hillsboro — Rev.  John  Sale — 
Called  to  exhort — An  incident — Persecution  and  temptation — Exercises 
about  preaching— Submission  to  the  will  of  God. 176-169 


CONTENTS.  i 

CHAPTER    X. 

Consent  to  travel  Scioto  circuit — First  appointment — West  Union — Sur- 
prise— Camp  meeting  on  Paint  creek — Receive  license  as  a  local  preacher — 
Admitted  into  the  traveling  connection,  and  appointed  to  Wills  Creek  cir- 
cuit— Divine  promises — Arrival  at  Zanesville — Description  of  circuit — 
Build  a  cabin  for  parsonage — Irish  family — Roman  Catholics — Conver- 
sion— Opposition  in  preaching — Principal  text-books  at  that  day — Preach- 
ing under  a  tree — An  old  German  and  son — German  woman  awakened— 
Tainful  incident — Alarming  judgment — Visit  to  a  poor  woman — Rev.  John 
Strange — Camp  meeting  on  Tuscarawas  river — Moravians — Mr.  John  Bow- 
ers and  wife — The  hunter  and  trapper — Appointment  at  his  house— Tragf- 
ical  event — Indian  Christians  masacred — Rev.  Mr.  Mortimer. 190-211 

CHAPTER    XI. 
Mrs.  Boarer — Her  efforts  to  cross  the  Capin  Mountains — Lost — Snow- 
storm— Dreadful  night — Loses    her    horse — Unprecedented    sufferings- 
Gave    herself    up    to    die — Faithful    dog — Found — God's    grace    suffi- 
cient.  212-217 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  doomed  chieftain — Wyandott  warriors — Mr.  Solls's  interference  in 

behalf  of  the  Wyandott  chief — Charge  of  witchcraft — Council  condemn 

and  sentence  him  to  death — Preparations  for  the  execution — Manner  of 

death— Burial. 218-222 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Knox  circuit — Local  preachers — Bowling  Green — Emissaries  of  Satan — 
Revival  at  Mount  Vernon — Rev.  Samuel  Hamilton — Capt.  Gavit — Camp 
meeting  anecdote — Gavit's  conversion — Rev.  Robert  Manly — Appointment 
at  Newark — Threats  of  the  rabble — Man  shot — Revival  at  Mr.  John's — 
Conviction  of  a  young  lady — Great  revival — Young  man  possessed  of  the 
devil — His  conversion — Successful  labors — My  successor — Arian  and  So- 
cinian  heresy — Sad  effects  of  it  to  this  day — Newlights — St.  Alban's  town- 
ship— The  Owl  creek  Universalist — Fairfield  circuit — Rev.  Ralph  Lot- 
speech — Extent  of  the  circuit — Local  preachers  and  prominent  members- 
Great  earthquake — Consternation  of  the  people — Whisky  distiller  and 
party — The  young  preacher's  grave. 223-242 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Young  men  called  to  the  ministry — Rev.  Cornelius  Springer — Rev.  Sam- 
uel Baker — Rev.  Job  Baker — Rev.  Jacob  Hooper — Rev.  Henry  Baker — John 
Dillon's  iron  works — The  Dillon  family — Formation  of  a  class  at  the  iron 
works — Building  of  a  meeting-house — Bishop  M'Kendree — Rev.  John 
Goshen — His  labors — Methodist  Church  and  temperance — Advised  to  go 
home — Temperance  sermons — Pledge — Rushville  camp  meeting — A  row- 


8  CONTENTS. 

Advice  to  the  rowdies — Conference  at  Chilicothe — Bishop  Asbury  and  the 
appointments — West  Wheeling  circuit — Rev.  Jacob  Young — Guessing 
at  the  numbers  in  society — Roman  Catholic  convert: — Abel  Sargent; 
the  halcyon  preacher — The  unhappy  influence  of  the  war  spirit — Lo- 
cal preachers — Model  class-leader — Poor  Jane  Craig — The  young  law 
yer. Pages  243-261 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Union  of  Barnesville  and  West  Wheeling  circuits — Rev.  Michael  Ellis — 
The  old  German  Methodist — An  adventurous  man — Great  revival  on  Duck 
creek — Camp  meeting  at  Fairview — A  son  of  Belial — Cross  Creek  circuit- 
Rev.  Archibald  M'Elroy — Extent  of  the  circuit — Church  discipline — Cal- 
vinist  controversy — Present  of  a  handsome  Bible — Irish  Ridge — Letter 
from  brother  M'Elroy — Rev.  J.  C.  Hunter — Society  at  Steubenville — 
Money  mania — Bankers — Towns — Bishop  M'Kendree — His  pack-horse — 
Arrival  at  the  camp  meeting — Methodist  family  at  Springfield — Jour- 
nal— Smithfield  Church — Training  of  members — Conference  at  Louis- 
ville  262-284 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Appointed  to  the  Ohio  district — Extent  of — Singular  custom  at  meet- 
ings— Fanaticism — Calvinism  and  Universalism — Presbyterian  Union — 
Confession  of  Faith — Rev.  Thomas  Branch — Singular  text — Camp  meet- 
ing— Hostile  indications — Captain  of  banditti — Judge  Cashing — A  singu- 
lar case — An  English  officer — A  verdant  young  missionary — Quarterly 
meeting  in  Major  Gay  lord's  barn — Dr.  Bostwick — The  conversion  of  a 
French  soldier — Camp  meeting  on  Lake  Erie — The  conversion  of  the  sher- 
iff— Americana  horribilis — Two  remarkable  instances  of  conviction — Con- 
ference at  Steubenville — A  request  for  a  talented  minister — Russel  Bige- 
low 285-308 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Mode  by  which  backwoods  preachers  were  manufactured  in  othei 
days — Cumberland  Presbytery — Meeting  for  candidates  for  the  ministry — 
A  wild  mountain-boy — His  experience — The  geologist — Bethel  camp  meet- 
ing— The  mountain-boy  preacher — Another  specimen — Methodist  camp 
meeting  near  Springfield — Kentucky  orator — Personal  appearance  in  the 
pulpit — Style  of  preaching — Power  over  his  auditors — A  desperate  en- 
counter and  struggle — Victory 309-329 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  young  missionary  and  the  robber — The  moral  condition  of  the  far 
west,  a*  represented  by  a  certain  class — Travels  of  the  young  mission- 
ary—Arm of  the  Grand  Prairie— The  appearance  of  a  suspicious-looking 
stranger— The  alarm  of  the  missionary — Taken  home  by  the  stranger— 


CONTENTS.  JJ 

Agreeable  surprise — His  host  a  local  preacher — Different  spheres  of  use- 
fulness-..  Pages  330-336 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  martyr  preacher — Richmond  Nolley — Summerfield — Cookman— 
Nolley's  early  life — His  call  to  the  ministry — Admission  into  the  traveling 
connection — Sent  to  Eddisto  circuit,  in  South  Carolina — Stationed  in  the 
city  of  Charleston,  South  Carolina — Washington  circuit,  Georgia — Hia 
habits  and  labors — Efforts  to  reach  a  distant  appointment — Melancholy 
death 337-343 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Personal  narrative  continued — Reappointed  to  the  Ohio  district — Wy- 
audott  Indians — Early  modes  of  worship — Conference  in  Cincinnati- 
Bishops — Delegates  to  General  conference — Appointed  to  Lebanon  dis- 
trict— Local  preacher — Camp  meeting — Camp  meeting  at  Mechanics- 
burg — Went  to  General  conference — Discordant  elements  in  the  body — 
Proposti  to  make  the  office  of  presiding  elder  elective — Compromise — Rev. 
Joshua  Soule's  opposition — M'Kendree's  request — Rule  adopted  to  build 
churches  with  free  seats — Declared  to  be  advisory — Round  of  camp  meet- 
ings— Solicited  to  send  a  minister  to  Detroit — Conference  at  Chilicothe — 
Returned  to  Lebanon  district — First  quarterly  meeting  at  the  Maumee 
Rapids — Dismal  journey  through  the  Black  Swamp — Meeting  with  the 
Wyandotts  at  Big  Spring — Religion  of  the  natives — Adventurous  trip  to 
Detroit — Worship  in  the  council-house — Governor  Cass — Soldiers  awak- 
ened under  preaching — other  appointments — Difficulty  with  an  Indian" — i 
Indian  reservation — Drew  up  petition  for  the  Wyandott  nation — Request 
for  my  appointment  at  Detroit — Not  granted — Appointed  to  the  Wyandott 
mission — No  missionary  funds  at  that  day — Mission  family — Difficulties 
connected  with  the  mission — Sister  Harriet  Stubbs — Progress  of  scholars 
in  the  mission  school — Organization  of  a  society — Religion  takes  hold  of 
the  mind  of  the  nation. 344-361 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Astonishing  revival  in  the  west  in  1800— joint  labors  of  a  Cumberland 
Presbyterian  and  Methodist  preacher — Character  of  their  preaching — 
Camp  meetings — Cane  Ridge  camp  meeting — Great  excitement — A  bold 
opposer  smitten — Exhortation  of  a  boy — Manner  of  the  exercises — Jerk- 
ing— Falling — Enthusiasm — Regular  Baptists — Carey  Allen — Springfield 
presbytery — Newlights — David  Purviance — Gov.  Garrard — Secretary — 
Tract  on  the  Trinity — Shakers — Burton  Stone's  exposition — Immersion— . 
Elder  Holmes — Elder  Farnam — A.  Sargent  and  his  twelve  apostles — Elias 
Hicks — Kid  well  and  the  last  edition  of  Universalism 362-373 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Personal  narrative    continued — Wyandott    mission — Report  of  Judge 
IieiV  to  Secretary  of  War — Appointed  to  Lebanon  district — Cincinnati 


s 


10  CONTENTS  . 

station-  -Rev.  J.  F.  Wright — Rev.  Thos.  A.  Morris  appointed  editor  of 
We»tern  Christian  Advocate — Returned  to  district — Appointed  to  Chili 
cothe  district — Dayton  district — A  remarkable  incident — Zanesville  dis 
trict— "Appointed  chaplain  of  the  Ohio  penitentiary — Superannuated — Ap- 
pointed to  Yellow  Springs — Superannuated — Appointed  to  Clinton-street 
Chapel,  Cincinnati — Wyandott  nation  removed — Reflections — Mrs.  Catha- 
rine Walker's  remarks  and  poetry Pages  374-380 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Rev.  Francis  Asbury's  arrival  in  America — His  early  religious  training — 
Conversion  and  connection  with  the  Church — State  of  the  Church  in  Eng- 
land— Early  preaching — Planting  of  Methodism  in  America — Labors  of 
th*  early  bishops — Meager  support— Methodist  Episcopal  Church  organ- 
ized— Dr.  Coke  and  Mr.  Asbury  elected  joint  superintendents — Interview 
of  Asbury  with  General  Washington — Academical  and  collegiate  educa- 
tion— Cokesbury  College — Methodist  Church  and  literature — Asbury's 
visit  to  New  Haven  College — A  change — The  fate  of  Cokesbury — Asbury 
and  Sabbath  schools — Asbury's  spirit — His  general  experience — His  regard 
for  the  preachers — Incident  in  his  travels — His  amor  patrice — Wes- 
ley's political  opinions — Death  of  Washington — Asbury's  opinion  of — 
Celibacy  of  Bishop  Asbury — Coke  and  Whatcoat — Close  of  Asbury's 
life 381-897 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Bishop  M'Kendree — Camp  meeting  on  Little  Miami — Personal  appear- 
ance of  M'Kendree — His  preaching — First  interview  with  him — Thrilling 
incident — M'Kendree  requested  to  preach  his  principles  in  full — Attacked 
by  three  Presbyterian  elders — Circumstances  connected  with  his  election 
to  the  superintendency — Description  of  his  sermon  before  the  members  of 
the  General  conference — Effect  of  that  sennon — Prediction  of  Bishop  As- 
bury— Twenty-seven  years  a  bishop — Impartial  in  all  his  official  acts-— 
The  close  of  his  life. 398-106 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Rev.  David  Young— His  parentage — Early  life— Experience — Relapse— 
Wonderful  preservation — His  educational  advantages — Taught  a  German 
school  in  Tennessee — Cumberland  Presbyterians — Meditations— Convic- 
tions— Went  to  a  large  meeting — Obtained  religion — Joyous  emotions — 
Became  a  Methodist  preacher — Views  of  the  Cane  Ridge  revival — Ap 
pointed  to  Wayne  circuit,  Kentucky — His  colleague — Total  eclipse — Ap- 
ponted  to  Livingston  circuit — Extent  of— Afflicted — Curious  Indian 
burying-ground — Improper  class-leaders — On  his  way  to  conference 
falls  sick  at  Lexington— His  personal  appearance  and  general  charac- 
ter.  407  418 


CONTENTS.  11 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Early  life  of  the  Rev.  John  P.  Finley — Professor  of  Languages  in  Au 
gusta  College,  Kentucky — Fate  of  Augusta  College — Finley  is  received 
into  the  traveling  connection — Dr.  Basconi's  tribute  to  his  memory- 
Analysis  of  his  character — Fifteen  years  in  the  ministry — Character  as 
a  man — As  a  teacher — As  a  husband — As  a  father — As  a  friend — 
As  a  minister — His  triumphant  end — Rev.  Jonathan  Stamper's  singular 
dream Pages  419-429 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
Rev.  W.  B.  Christie — Embraced  religion  in  early  life — Was  admitted 
into  the  traveling  connection  in  1825 — Various  appointments — Thric* 
elected  to  General  conference — His  personal  appearance — Style  of  preach- 
ing— Power  ,in  the  pulpit — Smitten  with  disease  in  the  early  part  of  his 
ministerial  life — Compelled  to  desist  from  his  labors,  and  repair  to  Cin- 
cinnati— His  health  rapidly  declined — Religious  experience — Christian 
testimony — Happy  death 430-435 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Indian  Biography — Mononcue — His  personal  appearance — His  elo- 
quence as  a  public  speaker — Specimens  of  his  eloquence — Of  great  serv- 
ice to  the  mission  among  the  Wyandotts — He  was  my  faithful,  well-tried 
friend  and  brother — His  death — Between-the-logs — His  birth  and  par- 
entage— But  little  known  of  his  early  life — With  the  Indian  army  at 
the  Maumee  Rapids — Becomes  a  chief — Made  principal  speaker  for  the 
nation — Sent  by  his  nation  to  examine  the  pretensions  of  a  noted  Seneca 
Prophet — Also,  to  examine  the  claims  of  a  Shawnee  Prophet — Tecumseh's 
brother — Attended  a  great  Indian  council  of  the  northern  nations — Joins 
the  Americans — Settled  in  Upper  Sandusky — His  opposition  to  selling  the 
Wyandott  lands — Proceeds  with  other  chiefs  to  Washington — His  reply 
to  the  Secretary  of  War — Result  of  interview  with  heads  of  depart- 
ments— Embraced  religion — Attends  the  Ohio  conference — Address  at 
New  York — Big-tkee — Personal  appearance — Manners — Residence — At 
Braddock's  defeat  when  a  boy — Indian  wars — Hair-bread.th  escape — His 
conversion — Close  of  his  life — The  mysterious  Indian  chieftain  and  his 
bride — Their  appearance  at  the  mission — Regarded  as  superior  beings — 
Personal  appearance  of  the  chief — His  dress — Hunting  apparatus — 
Horses — Conjectures — The  bride — Her  personal  appearance — Dress— Theii 
tent — Superstitious  conjectures — Their  mysterious  disappearance — Indiat 
tradition 436-455 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


REV.  JAMES  B.  FINLEY, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


OF 


REV.  JAMES  B.  FINLEY. 


CHAPTER  I.       ._ 

PARENTAGE    AND    EARLY    LIFE. 

Mr  ancestors  were  Europeans.  My  paternal  grand- 
father was  of  the  old  stock  of  Pennsylvanians  from  Scot- 
land. He  being  one  of  the  younger  sons,  his  elder  brother 
who,  according  to  the  laws  of  primogeniture,  inherited  the 
Finley  manor,  sent  him  to  the  El  Dorado  of  the  western 
world,  in  quest  of  his  fortune.  Having  made  Pennsylva- 
nia his  home,  he  was  in  due  time  married  to  Miss  Mary 
Patterson,  a  lady  from  Germany.  My  maternal  grand- 
father— Mr.  James  Bradley — was  a  native  of  Wales.  My 
grandmother  was  from  England ;  she  was  a  lady  of  rare 
endowments,  thoroughly  educated,  being  well-read  in  the 
ancient  languages.  During  the  period  of  revolutionary 
strife  and  suffering  she  made  herself  acquainted  with 
medical  science,  and  opened  a  hospital  for  the  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers,  administering  to  their  necessities  with 
her  own  benevolent  hand. 

My  father — Robert  W.  Finley — was  born  in  Bucks 
county,  Pennsylvania;  and,  after  having  received  all  the 
advantages  of  literary  training  from  the  schools  of  his 
neighborhood  and  the  instructions  of  his  patriot  mother, 
he  was  sent  to  Princeton  College,  New  Jersey,  and  placed 

15 


16  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

under  the  care  of  the  venerable  and  talented  Dr.  Wither* 
spoon,  President  of  that  institution.  After  having  passed 
through  his  collegiate  course,  he  spent  several  years  in 
studying  theology,  and  was  occasionally  employed  as  a 
teacher  of  languages.  Being  prepared,  as  far  as  a  theo- 
logical training  could  prepare  him,  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  he  was  licensed,  by  the  Presbytery,  to  preach 
the  Gospel. 

At  that  time  there  were  great  and  pressing  calls  foi 
ministerial  labor  in  the  new  settlements  of  the  Carolinas 
and' Georgia;  and,  obeying  the  command  of  his  Master,  to 
wgo  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every 
creature,"  lie  volunteered  his  services  as  a  missionary  to 
that  then  distant  field. 

The  country  was  in  an  unsettled  state;  the  gloomy 
clouds  of  war  hung  bodingly  over  the  American  horizon ; 
and  although  our  patriot  fathers  had  cast  off  their  allegi- 
ance to  the  British  crown,  had  struck  the  decisive  blow, 
and  erected  a  broad,  strong  platform  of  national  independ- 
ence, yet  the  days  of  trial  and  conflict  had  not  passed. 
The  Red  Sea  had  been  crossed,  the  Rubicon  had  been 
passed,  and  their  enemies  overthrown  like  the  enemies  of 
ancient  Israel;  yet,  before  they  could  gain  entire  and  un- 
disputed possession  of  the  fair  inheritance  they  claimed, 
every  foe  had  to  be  vanquished. 

The  times  in  which  men  live  develop  a  corresponding 
character.  A  missionary  of  that  day,  imbued  with  the 
heroic  spirit  of  the  times,  would  not  be  likely  to  stop  to 
count  the  cost  of  a  perilous  enterprise  where  the  advance- 
ment of  the  kingdom  of  his  Lord  was  concerned,  but, 
buckling  on  his  armor,  would  courageously  go  forth  at 
once  to  "glorious  war."  There  being  no  missionary  bank 
in  any  of  the  American  Churches  at  that  day,  on  whose 
resources  the  missionary  could  draw  the  needed  supplies, 
young  Finley  bade  adieu  to  home  and  friends,  and,  in  the 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  17 

narfie  of  his  Master,  trusting  in  God  for  help  and  direc- 
tion, hastened  to  his  distant  field  of  labor. 

No  sooner  did  he  arrive,  than  he  entered  upon  his  work 
of  visiting  the  towns,  villages,  and  settlements  in  North 
and  South  Carolina,  and  Georgia,  preaching  the  Gospel, 
and  planting  Churches  in  destitute  places.  Here  he  la- 
bored for  three  consecutive  years;  at  the  end  of  which 
time  he  married  Miss  Rebecca  Bradley,  whose  father — 
Mr.  James  Bradley,  as  above  noticed — believing  he  could 
better  the  condition  of  his  family  by  removing  to  a  new 
country,  sold  out  his  possessions  on  the  Delaware  river, 
and  removed  to  North  Carolina.  The  marriage  was  cele- 
brated in  the  year  1780,  and  on  the  following  year,  in  the 
month  of  July,  I  was  born. 

The  horrors  of  a  civil  war  raged  with  great  fury; 
neighbor  was  massacred  by  his  neighbor.  The  Tory 
party,  urged  on  by  the  British,  resorted  to  every  conceiv- 
able means  of  oppression  and  violence  to  drive  all  the 
Whigs  from  the  country,  or  keep  up  a  war  of  extermina- 
tion. In  this  relentless  persecution  every  feeling  of  hu- 
manity was  outraged;  and  the  barbarity  of  the  savages 
contending  for  their  native  hunting  grounds  against  the 
invasions  of  the  pale  face,  falls  below  the  savagism  of 
Tory  warfare.  All  of  my  mother's  brothers  were  killed 
in  this  most  deadly  strife.  Captain  James  Bradley  fell  in 
Gates's  defeat,  fighting  by  the  side  of  that  heroic  stranger, 
Baron  De  Kalb,  who,  filled  with  generous  emotions,  left 
his  father-land,  to  join  in  our  struggles,  and  water  the  tree 
of  liberty  with  his  heroic  blood.  My  uncle,  Mr.  Francis 
Bradley,  was  murdered  by  four  Tories  near  his  own 
house.  He  was  assailed  by  them,  and,  knowing  their  pur- 
pose, he  resolved  to  sell  his  life  at  the  dearest  rate.  A 
fierce  and  deadly  encounter  ensued ;  but,  being  overpow- 
ered by  numbers,  he  was  conquered,  and  the  cowardly 
ruffians  shot  him  with  his  own  rifle. 

2 


18  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

Mr.  John  Bradley  was  taken  prisoner,  and  died  on 
board  a  prison-ship.  My  father  and  his  congregation 
were  very  odious  to  the  Tory  party,  and  they  were 
watched  and  waylaid  on  every  occasion;  so  that  their 
lives  were  in  jeopardy  every  hour.  Even  the  sanctuary 
and  the  family  altar  afforded  no  security,  but  were  ruth- 
lessly invaded  by  these  more  than  savage  white  men. 
One  of  the  elders  of  my  father's  Church,  while  engaged 
in  solemn  prayer  around  the  domestic  altar,  was  shot 
down  in  the  midst  of  his  family  by  one  of  his  Tory  neigh- 
bors. The  Tory  on  passing  was  arrested  by  the  voice  of 
prayer,  and  stealthily  slipping  to  the  window,  which,  like 
Daniel's,  was  open,  he  took  a  cool  and  deliberate  aim  at 
the  heart  of  the  worshiper,  and  his  spirit  fled  to  join  the 
worshipers  above.  On  that  same  morning  my  father 
was  shot  at  as  he  stepped  out  of  the  door,  the  ball  pass- 
ing through  the  clothes  on  his  breast.  Those  who  killed 
Mr.  Francis  Bradley  were  followed,  and  three  of  them 
killed ;  the  other  making  his  escape.  After  the  war,  the 
fugitive  being  found  by  my  uncle  Price,  was  summarily 
punished. 

A  Tory  major,  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood,  on  a  cer- 
tain occasion  collected  together  at  one  house,  by  stratagem, 
all  the  wives  of  the  Whigs,  and  hung  them  up  by  the  neck 
till  almost  dead.  This  species  of  torture  was  resorted 
to  for  the  purpose  of-  extorting  from  them  the  place  ol 
their  husbands'  concealment.  Their  love  and  courage 
proved  entirely  too  strong  for  this  trial,  and  not  in  one 
single  instance  was  the  slightest  disclosure  made.  They 
despised  alike  the  Tory  and  his  threats.  Some  time  after 
the  war,  this  same  valorous  major  returned  to  the  same 
neighborhood  where  he  had  committed  the  dastardly  act, 
and  the  sons  of  those  mothers  whom  he  had  so  shame- 
fully abused  took  him  out  one  night  to  a  swamp,  and 
gave  him  twenty  lashes  on  his  back  for  every  woman  h« 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  19 

mid  hung;  they  then  tarred  and  feathered  him,  ducked 
him  in  the  swamp,  and  told  him  if  he  did  not  leave  the 
country  in  one  month,  they  would  draw  every  drop  of 
Tory  blood  out  of  his  body. 

My  grandparents  were  subjected  to  the  severest  trials ; 
not  only  suffering  the  loss  of  their  children,  but  their 
property ;  and  their  condition  as  well  as  that  of  all  others 
similarly  situated,  would  have  been  vastly  worse,  hadjt 
not  been  for  the  untiring  vigilance  and  indomitable  cour- 
age of  the  heroic  Marion. 

Like  ancient  Israel,  who,  while  rebuilding  the  temple  in 
troublous  times,  had  to  bear  about  them  the  weapons  of 
war,  so  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  at  that  day  were 
obliged  to  carry  carnal  as  well  as  spiritual  weapons.  My 
father  was  obliged,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  to  take 
up  arms  in  the  defense  of  his  country  and  family.  Often 
while  a  little  boy  have  I  stood  by  my  mother's  knee  and 
heard  her  tell  the  bloody  conflicts  of  those  days ;  and  her 
tongue  grew  eloquent  as  she  described  the  thrilling  ad- 
ventures of  the  courageous  Marion.  She  frequently  en- 
tertained us  with  the  war-songs  of  those  times.  I  recol- 
lect a  verse  of  one  of  those  songs,  and  will  give  it  to  the 
reader,  as  a  specimen  of  the  epic  poetry  of  the  times. 
The  song  was  composed  on  the  battle  of  King's  Mountain, 
and  ran  thus  : 

"Froud  Ferguson,  he  placed  himself 
All  with  his  ragged  race,3  man ; 
He  most  defied  the  living  God, 
To  take  him  from  that  place,  man ; 
But  brave  Campbell  did  him  there  surround, 
And  beat  him  on  his  chosen  ground, 
And  gave  him  there  a  deadly  wound. 
With  pell  and  mell  the  Tories  fell; 
It's  hard  to  tell  how  bad  a  smell 
They  left  upon  the  place,  man." 

c  Tories. 


"20  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

During  the  eventful  struggle  of  the  Revolution,  the  fires 
of  patriotism  glowed  as  intensely  in  the  hearts  of  the 
females  as  the  males.  Often  have  I  listened,  with  inde- 
scribable emotions,  to  the  patriotic  songs  sung  by  the  me- 
lodious and  soul-inspiring  voices  of  the  patriot  mothers 
and  daughters  of  that  day. 

One  has  said,  let  me  write  the  songs  of  a  country,  and 
I  care  not  who  makes  its  laws.  This  remark  is  full  of 
meaning.  No  one  can  tell  the  wonders  achieved  by  the 
power  of  the  patriotic  songs  of  a  country.  It  matters  not 
how  homely  they  are.  If  they  breathe  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  they  touch  the  heart  and  rouse  it  to  action.  The 
"Hail  Columbia"  of  America,  "Hail  to  the  chief"  ot 
Scotland,  "Britannia  rules  the  wave"  of  England,  the 
"Marseilles  Hymn"  of  France,  the  "Erin  go  Bragh"  of 
Ireland,  have  accomplished  more  in  infusing  patriotism 
and  a  military  spirit  into  the  minds  of  the  people  than  all 
other  agencies  combined. 

We  well  understand  the  power  of  holy  song  in  rousing 
the  dormant  soul  and  raising  the  thoughts  to  heaven. 
That  inimitable  poet  Charles  Wesley  understood  the  powei 
and  influence  of  song,  who,  when  asked  by  a  dissolute 
company  for  a  song,  and  being  allowed  to  sing  one  of  his 
own  composing,  commenced, 

"  Listed  into  the  cause  of  sin, 

Why  should  a  good  be  evil? 
Music,  alas!  too  long  has  been 

Press'd  to  obey  the  devil. 
Drunken,  or  light,  or  lewd,  the  lay 

Tends  to  the  soul's  undoing; 
Widens,  and  strews  with  flowers  the  way 

Down  to  eternal  ruin." 

So,  gentle  reader,  you  see  I  took  my  birth  in  the  storA. 
of  war,  and  my  nursery  tales  and  songs  were  all  of  w«r. 
Often  while  my  precious  mother  would  sing  to  me  the 
mournful  dirge  of  death,  have  I  seen  the  tears  steal  down 


REV.   JAMES    B..FINLEY.  21 

ner  calm  and  quiet  face,  and,  while  my  heart  would  beat 
with  unutterable  emotions,  I  have  felt  the  spirit  of  revenge 
rise  and  kindle  my  whole  nature  into  a  storm. 

My  parents  and  relatives  were  all  Presbyterians,  except 
my  grandmother  Bradley,  who  was  a  Whitefield  Method- 
ist, and  had  been  converted  to  God  in  her  early  life  by 
the  ministry  of  that  distinguished  and  eloquent  man  of 
God,  Rev.  George  Whitefield.  She  was  a  zealous  and 
happy  Christian.  Her  experience  was  bright  and  clear 
on  the  subject  of  experimental  religion,  and  differed  from 
the  most  of  professors,  as  also  from  the  experience  of  her 
ministers.  This  often  brought  on  a  controversy  between 
her  and  her  ministers  and  Christian  friends.  She  ex- 
pressed, in  clear  and  direct  terms,  her  belief  in  the  wit- 
ness of  the  Spirit,  and  always  bore  testimony  to  the  fact 
that  she  knew  God  had  power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins, 
because  she  felt  in  her  own  heart  the  pardoning  love  of 
God.  Such  a  profession  was  regarded  by  both  preachers 
and  people  as  presumptuous,  if  not,  indeed,  a  species  oi 
fanaticism.  The  doctrine  then  taught  was,  that  forgive- 
ness of  sins  could  not  be  known  till  death  or  after  death, 
and  that  it  was  necessary  for  us  to  commit  some  sin  to 
prevent  self-exaltation  and  vain  confidence.  It  was  urged 
as  impossible  for  man  to  know  his  sins  forgiven,  because 
the  decrees  of  God  concerning  election  were  secret,  and 
could  not  be  revealed  or  made  known  till  death,  or  after 
the  soul  passed  into  the  spirit-world.  From  all  this  she 
warmly  dissented,  affirming  that  she  knew  the  time  and 
place  of  her  conversion,  and  that  she  had  the  witness  of 
the  divine  Spirit  bearing  witness  with  her  spirit  that  she 
was  a  child  of  God. 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  the  new  world, 
as  it  was  then  called,  or,  in  other  words,  the  land  of 
Boone — Kentucky — excited  the  attention  of  my  father 
und  others,  who  were  personally  acquainted  with  Colonel 


22  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Boone ;  and,  taking  with  him  two  of  his  brothers  and  as 
many  others  of  the  neighbors  as  desired  to  accompany 
him,  he  started  out  on  a  tour  of  exploration.  It  was  in 
the  spring  of  1784  that  they  entered  upon  this  expedition; 
and,  after  traversing  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 
they  returned  in  the  summer,  with  the  most  glowing  ac- 
counts of  this  terrestrial  paradise,  this  new  Canaan,  "flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey."  No  sooner  had  this  intelli- 
gence been  received,  than  many  families  resolved  to 
emigrate.  My  grandparents,  being  too  old  to  encounter 
the  perils  and  fatigues  of  the  wilderness,  were  not  inclined 
to  go:  whereupon  my  father  yielded  to  their  wishes,  aban 
doned  his  purpose  of  going  to  Kentucky,  and  removed 
with  his  parents  to  Virginia,  and  settled  between  the  north 
and  south  branches  of  the  Potomac.  Here  my  father  had 
two  congregations,  to  whom  he  ministered  the  word  of 
life. 

Not  satisfied  with  his  location,  and  still  yearning  after 
Kentucky,  in  the  course  of  two  years  he  crossed  the 
Mountains,  and  came  to  George's  creek,  near  to  where 
the  town  of  Geneva  now  stands.  In  this  place  he  gath- 
ered a  congregation,  and  preached  with  great  success  and 
popularity. 

At  the  time  my  father  resided  in  the  Redstone  country 
there  was  a  great  excitement  in  the  Presbyterian  Church 
about  Psalmody.  The  introduction  of  Watts's  hymns  was 
considered  a  monstrous  departure  from  the  faith  of  the 
Church,  and,  in  some  instances,  divided  Churches  and 
families.  My  father  used  them  alternately,  and  thus 
brought  on  him  and  the  Rev.  Joseph  Smith  much  perse- 
cution. But  the  work  of  the  Lord  revived,  and  his  power 
was  greatly  manifested  in  the  awakening  of  sinners.  I 
recollect  at  a  sacrament  held  in  Mr.  Griffin's  barn,  on  the 
Sabbath  day,  that  forty  persons  cried  aloud  for  mercy, 
und  many  of  them  fell  to  the  floor.     This  was  considered 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLET.  23 

the  greatest  meeting  ever  known  in  the  country  for  the 
noise;  but  many  of  them  professed  to  obtain  religion. 
Some  time  after  this  a  sacramental  meeting  was  held  at 
Laurel  Hill  Meeting-house,  in  the  vicinity  of  Uniontown, 
as  now  called.  On  Saturday  afternoon,  my  father  asked 
a  Methodist  minister  to  conclude  the  public  services  by  an 
exhortation.  This  was  much  lauded  by  some  of  the  old 
folks,  and  inquiries  were  made  as  to  who  he  was.  One 
Mr.  Cree,  who  knew  him,  said  that  he  was  a  Methodist. 
Then  said  one  of  the  ruling  men,  "  Finley  has  shown  his 
cloven  foot."  The  next  morning  Rev.  Carey  Allen  was  to 
preach,  and  he  saw  an  advertisement  stuck  up  on  the 
stand,  which  he  took  down,  and  read,  as  follows:  "I  do 
hereby  publish  the  bans  of  marriage  between  Robert  W. 
Finley  and  the  Methodist  preacher.  Any  person  having 
any  lawful  objection  let  him  now  declare  it,  or  forever 
after  hold  his  peace."  Mr.  Allen  instantly  exclaimed, 
with  a  loud  voice,  "I  forbid  the  bans;  and  the  reason  is, 
they  are  too  near  akin."  This  made  many  leave  the  con- 
gregation ;  but  the  Lord  continued  to  pour  out  his  Spirit, 
and  many  professed  to  find  peace  in  believing. 

My  father  labored  in  this  field  for  two  }^ears;  but  he 
was  not  yet  satisfied ;  Kentucky  was  the  land  of  promise ; 
and,  accordingly,  in  the  fall  of  1788,  when  Pomona  was 
pouring  her  richest  treasures  into  the  lap  of  the  husband- 
man, he,  in  company  with  several  others,  cut  loose  from 
their  moorings  at  the  mouth  of  George's  creek,  to  emi- 
grate to  the  rich  cane-brakes  of  Kentucky.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  deeply-thrilling  and  interesting  scene  which  oc- 
curred at  parting.  Ministers  and  people  were  collected 
together,  and  after  an  exhortation  and  the  singing  of  a 
hymn,  they  all  fell  upon  their  knees,  and  engaged  in 
ardent  supplication  to  God,  that  the  emigrants  might 
be  protected  amid  the  perils  of  the  wilderness.  I  felt 
as  though  we  were   taking  leave   of   the   world.     After 


24  AOTOBIOGRAPHY    Off 

mingling  together  our  tears  and  prayers,  the  boats  were 
oosed,  and  we  floated  out  into  the  waters  of  the  beautiful 
Ohio.  It  was  a  hazardous  undertaking;  but  such  was 
the  insatiable  desire  to  inherit  those  rich  lands,  and  enjoy 
the  advantages  of  the  wide-spreading  cane-brakes,  that 
many  were  the  adventurers ;  and  although  many  lost  theii 
lives,  anc1  others  all  they  possessed,  yet  it  did  not  for  a 
moment  deter  others  from  the  perilous  undertaking.  The 
rush  to  California  at  the  present  time  shows  what  is  the 
extent  of  hardships  men,  with  the  bare  possibility  of  bet- 
tering their  condition,  will  cheerfully  undergo. 

The  Indians,  jealous  of  the  white  man,  and  fearful  of 
losing  their  immense  and  profitable  hunting-grounds,  from 
the  great  tide  of  emigration  which  was  constantly  pouring 
in  upon  them,  were  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
fury,  and  determined  to  guard,  as  far  as  possible,  both 
passes  to  it;  namely,  the  Ohio  river  and  the  Old  Crab 
Orchard  rpad,  or  Boone's  old  trace,  leading  from  the 
southern  portion  of  Kentucky  to  North  Carolina.  They 
attacked  all  boats  they  had  any  probability  of  being  able 
to  take,  using  all  the  strategy  of  which  they  were  masters 
to  decoy  them  to  the  shore.  Many  boats  were  taken  and 
many  lives  were  lost  through  the  deceit  and  treachery  of 
the  Indians  and  white  spies  employed  by  them. 

The  day  on  which  the  emigrants  started  was  pleasant, 
and  all  nature  seemed  to  smile  upon  the  pioneer  band 
They  had  made  every  preparation  they  deemed  necessary 
to  defend  themselves  from  the  attack  of  their  wily  foes. 
The  boat  which  led  the  way  as  a  pilot  was  well  manned 
and  armed,  on  which  sentinels,  relieved  by  turns,  kept 
watch  day  and  night.  Then  followed  two  other  boats  at 
a  convenient  distance.  While  floating  down  the  river  we 
frequently  saw  Indians  on  the  banks,  watching  for  an  op- 
portunity to  make  an  attack. 

Just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Scioto,  where  th 


RE\.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  25 

tuwn  of  Portsmoutli  now  stands,  a  long  and  desperate 
3ffcrt  was  made  to  get  some  of  the  boats  to  land  by  a 
white  man.  who  feigned  to  be  in  great  distress;  but  the 
fate  of  William  Orr  and  his  family  was  too  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  the  adventurers  to  be  thus  decoyed.  A  few 
months  previous  to  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  this 
gentleman  and  his  whole  family  were  murdered,  being 
lured  to  shore  by  a  similar  stratagem.  But  a  few  weeks 
before  we  passed,  the  Indians  attacked  three  boats,  two-  of 
which  were  taken,  and  all  the  passengers  destroyed.  The 
other  barely  escaped,  having  lost  all  the  men  on  board, 
except  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tucker,  a  Methodist  missionary,  who 
was  sent  by  the  bishop  to  Kentucky.  Mr.  Tucker  was 
wounded  in  several  places,  but  he  fought  manfully.  The 
Indians  got  into  a  canoe  and  paddled  for  the  boat,  determ- 
ined to  board  it;  but  the  women  loaded  the  rifles  of 
their  deceased  husbands,  and  handed  them  to  Mr.  Tucker, 
who  took  such  deadly  aim,  every  shot  making  the  number 
in  the  canoe  less,  that  they  abandoned  all  hope  of  reach- 
ing the  boat,  and  returned  to  the  shore. 

After  the  conflict  this  noble  man  fell  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion, and  the  women  were  obliged  to  take  the  oars, 
and  manage  the  boat  as  best  they  could.  They  were  ena- 
bled to  effect  a  landing  at  Limestone,  now  Maysville ;  and 
a  few  days  after  their  protector  died  of  his  wounds,  and 
they  followed  him  weeping  to  his  grave.  Peace  to  his 
dust,  till  it  shall  be  bidden  to  rise!  Though  no  stone 
marks  the  spot  where  this  young  hero-missionary  lies, 
uway  from  his  home  and  kindred,  among  strangers  in  a 
strange  land,  his  dust  is  sacred,  till  the  resurrection  morn, 
when  it  shall  come  forth  reanimate  to  inherit  immortality. 

But  to  resume  our  narrative.  Being  too  well  posted  in 
Indian  strategy  to  be  decoyed,  we  pursued  our  journey 
unmolested.  Nothing  remarkable  occurred,  save  the  death 
of  my    much-loved   grandmother.     The    day  before   we 

3 


26  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

landed  at  Limestone  she  took  her  mystic  flight  to  a  bette. 
world.  This  was  the  first  time  I  was  privileged  to  see  a 
Christian  die.  Her  faith  was  strong  in  the  God  of  het 
salvation ;  and  while  surrounded  by  her  weeping  friends, 
whom  she  affectionately  addressed,  and  bidding  them  ail 
a  last  farewell,  she  repeated  the  following  verse,  and  thei> 
sweetly  fell  asleep  in  Jesus : 

"0,  who  can  tell  a  Savior's  worth, 
Or  speak  of  grace's  power, 
Or  benefits  of  the  new  birth, 

In  a  departing  hour  ? 
Come  nigh,  kind  death; 
Untie  life's  thread; 
I  shall  to  God  ascend; 
In  joys  I  shall  then  with  him  dwell — 
Joys  that  shall  never  end." 

The  recollections  of  this  kind  mother  in  Israel  are  stih 
fresh  in  my  memory ;  When  a  child  she  would  frequently 
take  me  into  her  closet,  and  there,  while  engaged  in  he/ 
private  devotions,  like  Hannah  of  old,  she  would  lay  her 
hands  on  my  head,  and  dedicate  me  to  God.  Her  remain*1 
were  committed  to  the  dust  in  Maysville,  and  the  Bcv« 
Carey  Allen,  of  bli^o^u.  ^v/uiory,  preached  ner  luiioai 
sermon.  The  impressions  made  on  my  youthful  mind  by 
the  prayers  and  invocations  of  my  sainted  grandmother 
were  never  erased ;  and  when  the  natural  inclinations  of 
my  depraved  heart  would  have  led  me  into  infidelity,  her 
godly  life  and  triumphant  death  would  come  to  my  recol- 
lection with  irresistible  power,  and  confirm  me  in  the 
truth  of  Christianity. 

In  company  with  my  father,  and  in  his  boat,  there  were 
two  missionaries — the  Revs.  Carey  Allen  and  Robert 
Marshall — and  also  Mr.  James  Walsh  and  Mr.  Richard 
M'Nemar,  both  of  whom  afterward  became  ministers  in 
the  Presbyterian  Church.  As  soon  as  my  father  could 
make  the  necessary  arrangements,  he  removed  his  family 
to   the   town   of   Washington,   Mason   county,   Ky.,    and 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLET.  27 

remained  there  during  the  winter.  It  was  in  this  place  that 
L  saw  for  the  first  time  that  great  adventurer,  Simon  Ken- 
ton. He  was  truly  the  master-spirit  of  the  times  in  that 
region  of  country.  He  was  looked  up  to  by  all  as  the 
great  defender  of  the  inhabitants,  always  on  the  qui  viv#, 
and  ready  to  fly  at  a  moment's  warning  to  the  place  of 
danger,  for  the  protection  of  the  scattered  families  in  the 
wilderness.  Providence  seems  to  have  raised  up  this  man 
for  a  special  purpose ;  and  his  eventful  life,  and  the  many 
wonderful  and  almost  miraculous  deliverances,  in  which  he 
was  preserved  amidst  the  greatest  perils  and  dangers,  are 
confirmatory  of  the  fact,  that  he  was  a  child  of  Providence. 
The  Indians  made  great  depredations  during  the  winter, 
and  stole  almost  all  the  horses,  so  that  the  farmers  were 
•icarcely  able  to  carry  on  their  business.  In  this  posture 
of  affairs,  Colonel  Kenton,  with  a  party  of  men,  started 
from  Kentucky  and  went  to  Oldtown,  now  Chilicothe,  for 
the  purpose  of  recovering  them.  Having  succeeded,  by 
<vay  of  reprisal,  in  taking  as  many  as  they  could  manage, 
they  returned,  and  being  pursued,  when  near  the  OJiio 
river,  they  were  overtaken,  and  the  men  and  horses  were 
captured.  Colonel  Kenton  was  taken  a  prisoner  to  Lower 
Sandusky,  where  he  was  tried  by  a  council  and  condemned 
to  be  burnt  at  the  stake.  Simon  Girty,  a  brave  and  dar- 
ing white  man,  who  had,  on  account  of  the  cruel  treat- 
ment he  had  received  from  General  Lewis,  at  Point  Pleas- 
ant, Virginia,  foresworn  his  race  and  been  adopted  by  the 
Wyandott  nation,  was,  at  that  time,  at  Lower  Sandusky. 
iTears  before  Kenton  and  Girtv  had  been  bosom  compan- 
ions at  Fort  Pitt,  and  had  served  together  subsequently  in 
die  commencement  of  Dunmore's  expedition.  Girty  had 
just  returned  from  an  unsuccessful  expedition  in  Pennsyl- 
vania against  the  whites,  and  was  enraged  by  disappoint- 
ment. Hearing  that  a  prisoner  was  in  the  camp,  con- 
demned and  already  blackened  for  execution,  he  hastened 


29  ATJTOBIOGKAPHY    OF 

to  his  presence;  and,  not  recognizing  Kenton,  Le  com 
menced  abusing  him  in  the  most  shameful  and  indignant 
manner,  eventually  knocking  him  down.  He  knew  that 
the  prisoner  was  from  Kentucky,  and  the  object  of  his 
cruel  treatment  was  to  frighten  him  into  a  disclosure  of 
all  he  wished  to  know  about  the  enemy.  He  inquired  of 
him  in  relation  to  the  number  of  men  there  were  in  Ken- 
tucky. This  the  prisoner  could  not  answer,  but  ran  over 
the  names  and  rank  of  such  officers  as  he  could  recollect 
Girty  then  asked: 

"Do  you  know  William  Stewart?" 

"Perfectly  well,"  replied  the  prisoner;  "he  is  an  old 
and  intimate  acquaintance." 

"Ah!  what  is  your  name,  then?" 

"Simon  Butler;"  for  that  was  the  name  by  which  he 
was  previously  known. 

As  soon  as  Girty  heard  the  name,  he  became  strongly 
agitated ;  and  springing  from  his  seat,  he  threw  his  arms 
around  Kenton's  neck,  and  embraced  him  with  much 
emotion.  Then  turning  to  the  assembled  warriors,  who 
remained  astonished  spectators  of  this  extraordinary  scene, 
he  addressed  them  in  a  short  speech,  which  the  deep  earn- 
estness of  his  tone,  and  the  energy  of  his  gesture,  ren- 
dered eloquent.  He  informed  them  that  the  prisoner, 
whom  they  had  just  condemned  to  the  stake,  was  his  an- 
cient comrade  and  bosom  friend ;  that  they  had  traveled 
the  same  war-path,  slept  upon  the  same  blanket,  and 
dwelt  in  the  same  wigwam.  He  entreated  them  to  have 
compassion  on  his  feelings ;  to  spare  him  the  agony  of 
witnessing  the  torture  of  an  old  friend,  by  the  hands  of 
his  adopted  brothers ;  and  not  to  refuse  so  trifling  a  favoi 
as  the  life  of  a  white  man,  to  the  earnest  intercession  of 
one  who  had  proved,  by  three  years'  faithful  service,  thai 
he  was  sincerely  and  zealously  devoted  to  the  cause  of 
die  Indians. 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  29 

The"  speech  was  listened  to  in  unbroken  silence.  As 
.soon  as  he  had  finished,  several  chiefs  expressed  their  ap« 
probation  by  a  deep  guttural  interjection,  while  others 
were  equally  as  forward  in  making  known  their  objections 
to  the  proposal.  They  urged  that  his  fate  had  already 
Deen  determined  in  a  large  and  solemn  council,  and  thai 
tcey  would  be  acting  like  squaws  to  change  their  minds 
every  hour.  They  insisted  upon  the  flagrant  misdemeBn- 
ors  of  Kenton — that  he  had  not  only  stolen  their  horses, 
but  had  flashed  his  gun  at  one  of  their  young  men ;  that 
it  was  vain  to  suppose  that  so  bad  a  man  could  ever  be- 
come an  Indian  at  heart,  like  their  brother  Girty;  that 
the  Kentuckians  were  all  alike — very  bad  people — and 
ought  to  be  killed  as  fast  as  they  were  taken ;  and  finally, 
they  observed  that  many  of  their  people  had  come  from  a 
distance,  solely  to  assist  at  the  torture  of  the  prisoner,  and 
pathetically  painted  the  disappointment  and  chagrin  with 
which  they  would  hear  that  all  their  trouble  had  been  for 
nothing. 

Girty  listened  with  obvious  impatience  to  the  young 
warriors  who  had  so  ably  argued  against  a  reprieve;  and 
starting  to  his  feet,  as  soon  as  the  others  had  concluded, 
he  urged  his  former  request  with  great  earnestness.  He 
briefly,  but  strongly,  recapitulated  his  own  services,  and 
the  many  and  weighty  instances  of  attachment  he  had 
given.  He  asked  if  he  could  be  suspected  of  partiality  to 
the  whites  ?  When  had  he  ever  before  interceded  for  any 
of  that  hated  race?  Had  he  not  brought  seven  scalps 
home  with  him  from  the  last  expedition  ?  and  had  he  not 
submitted  seven  white  prisoners  that  very  evening  to  their 
discretion?  Had  he  expressed  a  wish  that  a  single  one 
of  the  captives  should  be  saved?  This  was  his  first  and 
should  be  his  last  request;  for  if  they  refused  to  him% 
what  was  never  refused  to  the  intercession  of  one  of  their 
natural  chiefs,  he  would  look  unon  himself  as  disgraced  in 


30  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    CP 

their  eyes,  and  considered  as  unworthy  of  confidence 
Which  of  their  own  natural  warriors  had  been  more  zeal- 
ous than  himself?  From  what  expedition  had  he  ever 
shrunk? — what  white  man  had  ever  seen  his  back? 
Whose  tomahawk  had  been  bloodier  than  his?  He  would 
say  no  more.  He  asked  it  as  a  first  and  last  favor,  as  an 
evidence  that  they  approved  of  his  zeal  and  fidelity,  that 
the  life  of  his  bosom  friend  might  be  spared.  Fresh 
speakers  arose  upon  each  side,  and  the  debate  was  carried 
on  for  an  hour  and  a  half  with  great  heat  and  energy. 

During  the  whole  of  this  time,  Kenton's  feelings  may 
readily  be  imagined.  He  could  not  understand  a  syllable 
of  what  was  said.  He  saw  that  Girty  spoke  with  deep 
earnestness,  and  that  the  eyes  of  the  assembly  were  often 
turned  upon  himself  with  various  expressions.  He  felt 
satisfied  that  his  friend  was  pleading  for  his  life,  and  that 
he  was  violently  opposed  by  a  large  part  of  the  council. 
At  length  the  war-club  was  produced,  and  the  final  vote 
taken.  Kenton  watched  its  progress  with  thrilling  emo- 
tion— which  yielded  to  the  most  rapturous  delight,  as  he 
perceived  that  those  who  struck  the  floor  of  the  council- 
house,  were  decidedly  inferior  in  number  to  those  who 
passed  it  in  silence.  Having  thus  succeeded  in  his  benev- 
olent purpose,  Girty  lost  no  time  in  attending  to  the  com- 
fort of  his  friend.  He  led  him  into  his  own  wigwam,  and 
from  his  own  store  gave  him  a  pair  of  moccasins  and  leg- 
gins,  a  breech-cloth,  a  hat,  a  coat,  a  handkerchief  for  his 
neck,  and  another  for  his  head. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  and  after  passing  through 
some  further  difficulties,  in  which  the  renegado  again 
stood  by  him  faithfully,  Kenton  was  sent  to  Detroit,  from 
which  place  he  effected  his  escape  and  returned  to  Ken- 
tucky. Girty  remained  with  the  Indians,  retaining  his 
old  influence,  and  continuing  his  old  career;  and  four 
veajf  after  the  occurrerces  last  ietailed,  in  1782,  we  find 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLET.  81 

him  a  prominent  figure  in  one  of  the  blackest  tragedies 
that  has  ever  disgraced  the  annals  of  mankind.  It  js 
generally  believed,  by  the  old  settlers  and  their  immediate 
descendants,  that  the  influence  of  Girty  at  this  period, 
over  the  confederate  tribes  of  the  whole  north-west,  was 
almost  supreme.  He  had,  it  is  true,  no  delegated  author- 
ity, and,  of  course,  was  powerless  as  regarded  the  final 
determination  of  any  important  measure;  but  his  voice 
was  permitted  in  council  among  the  chiefs,  and  his  inflam- 
ing harangues  were  always  listened  to  with  delight  by  the 
young  warriors.  Among  the  sachems  and  other  head- 
men, he  was  what  may  well  be  styled  a  "power  behind 
the  throne ;"  and  as  it  is  well  known  that  this  unseen 
power  is  often  "greater  than  the  throne  itself,"  it  may 
reasonably  be  presumed  that  Girty's  influence  was,  in 
reality,  all  which  it  is  supposed  to  have  been.  The  horri- 
ble event  alluded  to  above,  was  the  burning  of  Crawford^ 
at  Sandusky. 

Simon  Girty  lived  the  inveterate  enemy  of  his  race,  and, 
in  carrying  out  his  fearful  oath,  grew  more  and  more  des- 
perate in  cruelty  to  the  whites,  till  he  was  finally  aban- 
doned of  God  and  man.  He  died  a  most  melancholy 
death,  and  went  down  as  the  traitor  to  an  unhonored 
grave. 

Simon  Kenton  was  the  friend  and  benefactor  of  his 
race,  and  lived  respected  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew 
him.  In  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he  embraced  religion ; 
and  it  may  not  be  improper  here  to  relate  the  circumstan- 
ces connected  with  his  conversion.  In  the  fall  of  1819 
General  Kenton  and  my  father  met  at  a  camp  meeting  on 
the  waters  of  Mad  river,  after  a  separation  of  many  years. 
Their  early  acquaintance  in  Kentucky  rendered  this  inter- 
view interesting  to  both  of  them.  The  meeting  had  been 
in  progress  for  several  days  without  any  great  excitement 
till  Sabbath  evening,  when  it  pleased  God  to  pour  out  his 


32  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Spirit  in  a  remarkable  manner.  Many  were  awakened, 
and  among  the  number  were  several  of  the  General's  rel- 
atives. It  was  not  long  till  their  awakening  was  followed 
by  conversion.  The  old  hero  was  a  witness  to  these 
scenes.  He  had  faced  danger  and  death  in  every  form 
with-  an  unquailed  eye  and  an  unfaltering  courage,  but 
the  tears  and  sobs  of  penitence,  and  the  outbursts  of  rap- 
turous joy  from 

"  Souls  renewed, 

And  sins  forgiven," 

proved  too  strong  for  the  hardy  veteran.  His  neart  was 
touched,  and  the  tear  was  seen  to  kindle  the  eye  and  star1 
down  the  furrow  of  his  manly  cheek.  Say  not  the  man 
of  courage  can  not  weep. 

On  Monday  morning  he  asked  my  father  to  retire  with 
him  to  the  woods.  To  this  he  readily  assented,  and,  as 
they  were  passing  along  in  silence  and  the  song  of  the 
worshipers  had  died  upon  their  ears,  addressing  my  father, 
he  said,  "Mr.  Finley,  I  am  going  to  communicate  to  you 
some  things  which  I  want  you  to  promise  me  you  will 
never  divulge."  My  father  replied,  "If  it  will  not  affect 
any  but  ourselves,  then  I  promise  to  keep  it  forever."  By 
this  time  they  were  far  from  the  encampment  in  the 
depths  of  the  forest.  They  were  alone ;  no  eye  could  see 
them,  and  no  ear  could  hear  them,  but  the  eye  and  ear  of 
the  great  Omnipresent.  Sitting  down  on  a  log,  the  Gen 
eral  commenced  to  tell  the  story  of  his  heart  and  disclost 
its  wretchedness ;  what  a  great  sinner  he  had  been,  and 
how  merciful  was  God  in  preserving  him  amid  all  the  con- 
flicts and  dangers  of  the  wilderness.  While  he  thus  un- 
burdened his  heart  and  told  the  anguish  of  his  sin-wounded 
spirit,  his  lip  quivered  and  the  tears  of  penitence  fell  from 
his  weeping  eyes.  They  both  fell  to  the  earth  and,  pros- 
trate, cried  aloud  to  God  for  mercy  and  salvation.  The 
penitent  was  pointed  to  Jesus  as  the  almighty  Savior;  and 


HEV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  38 

after  a  long  and  agonizing  struggle  the  gate  of  eternal  life 

was  entered,  and 

"  Hymns  of  joy  proclaimed  through  heaven 
The  triumphs  of  a  soul  forgiven." 

Then  from  the  old  veteran,  who  immediately  sprang  to 
his  feet,  there  went  up  a  shout  toward  heaven  which  made 
the  woods  resound  with  its  gladness.  Leaving  my  father 
he  started  for  the  camp,  like  the  man  healed  at  the  Beau- 
tiful Gate,  leaping,  and  praising  God,  so  that  the  faster 
and  farther  he  went,  the  louder  did  he  shout  glory  to  God. 
His  appearance  startled  the  whole  encampment;  and  when 
my  father  arrived  he  found  an  immense  crowd  gathered 
around  him,  to  whom  he  was  declaring  the  goodness  of 
God  and  his  power  to  save.  Approaching  him,  my  father 
said,  "General,  I  thought  we  were  to  keep  this  matter  a 
secret!"  He  instantly  replied,  "0,  it  is  too  glorious  for 
that.  If  I  had  all  the  world  here  I  would  tell  of  the 
goodness  and  mercy  of  God  I" 

At  this  time  he  joined  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
li\ed  a  consistent,  happy  Christian,  and  died  in  tire  op3n 
sunshine  of  a  Savior's  love.  If  there  is  any  one  of  all 
the  pioneers  of  this  valley,  to  whom  the  country  owss  Ihe 
largest  debt  of  gratitude,  that  one  is  G«  neral  Simon  Fen- 
ton.  His  body  sleeps  on  the  waters  of  Mad  river,  ibout 
six  miles  north  of  Zanesfield,  and 

"  When  that  t>  inding  stream  shall  cease  to  flow, 
And  those  surrounding  hills  exist  no  more, 

His  sleeping  dust  reanimate  shall  rise, 
Bursting  to  life  at  the  last  trumpet's  sound ; 

Shall  bear  a  part  in  nature's  grand  assize, 
When  sun,  and  time,  and  stars  no  more  are  found." 

But  to  the  narrative.  Nothing  transpired  during  the 
winter,  save  occasional  visits  from  the  Indians,  who  stole 
several  horses  and  sometimes  succeeded  in  taking  a  few 
prisoners,  one  or  two  of  whom  were  killed.  Notwith- 
standing the   return   of  spring  was   dreaded,    fearing  ii 


3  J  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

would  be  an  occasion  for  great  depredations  on  the  part 
of  the  Indians,  it  passed  without  any  hostile  invasion. 

I  will  here  give  an  account  of  the  manner  of  adminis- 
tering justice  in  certain  cases  in  those  times.  Almost  all 
ne\*  countries  become  places  of  refuge  for  criminals  who 
tlee  from  justice.  Many  of  this  description  had  fled  from 
the  older  states,  and  had  taken  up  their  abode  in  Ken- 
tucky. To  provide  against  this,  the  Legislature  of  the 
state  passed  what  was  termed  the  vagrant  act.  It  opera- 
ted on  this  wise.  When  any  person  was  found  withou' 
employment  or  any  visible  means  of  obtaining  a  liveli- 
hood, he  was  taken  up,  and  after  having  been  advertised 
ten  days,  was  sold  to  the  highest  bidder  for  a  short  time, 
say  two  or  three  months.  All  that  was  earned  above  the 
necessary  costs  was  given  to  him  at  the  end  of  service. 
A  good-looking  and  well-dressed  man  was  found  in  the 
town  of  Washington  who  had  no  employment.  He  was 
taken  up,  and,  on  examination,  found  to  be  a  gambler, 
who  was  corrupting  the  morals  of  the  youth.  The  magis- 
trate informed  him,  if  he  did  not  leave  the  place  in  a  short 
time  he  would  put  the  law  in  force  against  him.  This 
warning  was  entirely  disregarded,  and  accordingly  the 
gentleman  was  taken  up  and  sold  to  a  blacksmith,  who 
chained  him  to  the  anvil-block  and  made  him  blow  and 
strike  all  day,  and  at  night  he  was  put  in  the  county 
prison.  Thus  he  was  obliged  to  do  the  honest  though 
hard  work  of  blowing  and  striking  till  his  term  expired, 
when  he  left  for  parts  unknown,  with  a  very  bad  opinion 
of  the  law. 

If  such  a  law  were  put  in  force  in  our  towns  and  cities, 
the  innumerable  hordes  of  gamblers  and  loafers  that  infest 
them  wrould  soon  become  as  scarce  as  musketoes  in  mid- 
winter. 

When  the  fall  of  the  year  came,  we  found  ourselves 
scarce  of  provisions  for  the  coming  winter;  yet  we  were 


REV.    JAMEs    R.    FINLfiY.  35 

not  destitute  of  the  never-failing  staples  of  the  back 
woodsman;  namely,  hominy,  buffalo,  venison,  and  bear- 
meat;  and  any  man  can  live  well  on  these,  and  come  out 
fat  and  hearty  in  the  spring. 

In  the  spring  of  1789  my  father  purchased  some  land 
in  the  vicinity  of  Stockton's  station,  near  where  the  town 
of  Flemino-sbur^  now  stands,  and  we  removed  into  the 
woods,  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  station.  This 
was  the  frontier  house  of  the  settlement,  there  being  none 
between  it  and  the  Ohio  river.  The  house  was  built  of 
round  logs  from  the  forest  trees :  the  first  story  made  of 
the  largest  wre  were  able  to  put  up ;  the  second  story  of 
smaller  ones,  which  jutted  over  two  or  three  feet,  to  pre- 
vent any  one  from  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  house.  The 
chimneys  were  built  on  the  inside.  The  door  was  made 
of  puncheon  slabs,  six  inches  thick,  and  was  barred  on 
the  inside  by  strong  iron  staples  driven  into  the  logs  on 
both  sides,  into  which  were  placed  strong  bars.  \In  the 
upper  part  of  the  house  there  were  port-holes,  out  of 
which  we  could  shoot  as  occasion  might  require;  and,  as 
no  windows  were  allowed,  they  also  answered  for  the  pur- 
poses of  light  and  ventilation.  The  house  for  our  colored 
people  was  built  in  the  same  way,  and  immediately  ad- 
joining the  one  in  which  the  family  lived.  My  father 
treated  his  slaves  with  great  tenderness — more  like  chil- 
dren than  servants.  He  never  punished  one  of  them,  to 
my  recollection.  They  were  all  taught  to  read,  and  we 
all  joined  together  in  praise  and  prayer  to  God.  I  have 
often  thought  that  slavery  existed  in  my  father's  family 
only  in  form,  and  that  it  was  in  the  power  of  every  mas- 
ter to  enjoy  all  the  benefits  resulting  from  servitude,  with- 
out the  evils  too  often,  alas !  connected  with  it. 

Our  houses  being  thus  strongly  constructed,  and  all  of 
us  armed  with  a  gun  and  plenty  of  ammunition,  we  were 
always  prepared  for  war.     While  some  were  engaged  in 


3b  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

working,  others  acted  as  sentinels.  About  the  middle  of 
April  the  Indians  paid  a  visit  to  our  new  home.  They 
came  in  the  night,  while  my  father  was  engaged  in  family 
prayer,  and  rapped,  with  a  wiping  stick,  three  times  on 
the  door.  The  dogs  barked  most  furiously,  and  the  time 
for  prayer  having  ended,  the  time  of  watching  having 
come,  every  one  of  us  seized  our  guns,  and  hastened  to 
our  posts.  The  night  was  so  dark,  it  was  impossible  foi 
us  to  discover  any  one.  After  some  time  all  things  be- 
came quiet  without,  and  some  laid  themselves  down  to 
sleep,  while  others  kept  watch  till  welcome  day  dispelled 
our  fears.  With  great  caution  the  door  was  unbarred 
and  opened,  and,  on  examination,  the  tracks  of  three  In- 
dians were  found  as  they  passed  over  the  newly-cleared 
field.  Believing  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  Indians  to  steai 
horses,  and  ours  being  in  the  woods,  my  father  took  his 
rifle  and  went  to  hunt  them.  As  he  proceeded  cautiously 
on  his  way,  he  came  to  a  ridge,  on  ascending  which  he 
perceived  a  smoke  rising  up  from  the  other  side.  Stealth- 
ily advancing,  he  saw  the  camp  of  the  Indians,  one  of 
whom  was  sitting  up,  and  the  other  two  were  lying  down. 
He  crept  back  slowly,*  and,  taking  another  direction,  he 
soon  found  the  horses,  and  returned  home.  As  soon  as 
he  returned,  he  sent  to  the  station  to  give  the  alarm.  It 
was  considered  best  not  to  go  out  in  quest  of  the  Indians 
that  night,  but  that  all  should  keep  on  the  look-out,  and 
thus  be  prepared  for  them  should  they  make  an  attack. 
That  night  they  took  six  horses,  and  started  for  the  Ohio 
river,  which  was  distant  about  seventy  miles.  Captain 
Cassady  immediately  started  in  pursuit,  and  on  the  sec- 
ond day  overtook  them ;  but,  fearful  of  the  consequences, 
they  left  the  horses,  and  fled  with  such  celerity  that  they 
were  not  overtaken. 

During  the  summer  they  stole  several  horses  and  killed 
a  few  persons,  but  made   no   formidable   attack  on   any 


REV.   JAMES    B.    FitfLEY.  37 

bouse  or  station.  We  were  visited  again  by  the  Indians 
the  following  spring.  It  was  the  time  of  sugar  making. 
It  was  in  the  night,  and  we  were  boiling  sugar  water. 
The  distance  of  our  camp  from  the  house  was  about  forty 
rod3,  All  at  once  we  were  startled  by  what  we  supposed 
to  be  the  hooting  of  several  owls,  and  shortly  after  we 
heard  a  low  whistle  from  a  charger.  The  obvious  design 
which  we  gathered  from  these  movements,  was  that  they 
intended  to  surround  us.  My  mother,  who  was  with  us, 
being  accustomed  to  Indian  strategy  and  warfare,  was  not 
in  the  least  intimidated;  beside  she  had  passed  through 
too  many  dark  and  bloody  scenes  to  be  faint-hearted. 
Approaching  the  colored  man,  she  said,  "Indians!  Stand 
behind  that  tree ;  let  the  fire  burn  till  you  think  we  have 
reached  home ;  then  throw  a  bucketful  of  water  on  the 
fire,  slip  out  in  the  dark,  and  run  home  as  soon  as  you 
can."  The  faithful  servant  obeyed  all  these  directions; 
and  the  Indians,  being  thwarted  in  their  purposes,  recon- 
noitered  the  houses.  My  father  being  absent  from  home, 
mother  assumed  the  command,  and,  directing  all  to  their 
posts,  told  us  to  stand  firm,  and  not  fire  a  gun  till  we  were 
sure  of  our  mark.  The  dogs  set  up  a  howl,  as  if  they 
were  frantic,  till  about  midnight,  when  all  became  quiet. 
The  Indians  passed  on  to  another  settlement,  where  they 
took  a  prisoner  and  several  horses,  and  then  started  foi 
the  river. 

The  ever-vigilant  Captain  Cassady,  with  his  minute- 
men,  were  soon  on  the  trail,  and  urged  the  pursuit  so 
hotly,  that  on  the  second  day  they  came  on  them  so  sud- 
denly, that  they  fled,  leaving  their  prisoner,  and  receiving 
the  fire  of  the  whole  party.  They  made  their  escape  with 
their  wounded,  and  the  company  returned. 

An  event  occurred  about  this  time,  of  a  most  melan* 
choly  character,  and  which  threw  a  gloom  over  the  whole 
community.     A  young  man,  who  was  employed  as  a  spy, 


38  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

and  was,  of  course,  dressed  like  an  Indian,  in  coming  into 
the  station,  saw  a  young  lad  with  his  gun  coming  toward 
him.  He  ran  behind  a  tree,  and  made  a  noise  like  an  In- 
dian, for  the  purpose  of  frightening  the  boy.  The  boy, 
on  seeing  this,  and  supposing  him  to  be  a  veritable  In- 
dian, also  took  to  a  tree.  When  the  spy  looked  out  from 
bis  retreat,  to  see  the  boy  run,  the  boy,  who  was  on  the 
vatch,  instantly  fired,  and  the  unfortunate  spy  fell  dead 
on  the  spot.  A  similar  occurrence  came  very  near  hap- 
pening with  myself.  One  of  our  neighbors,  named  Jack 
Williams,  had  been  out  to  watch  a  deer-lick.  Seeing  me 
coming  on  a  cow-path,  for  the  purpose  of  alarming  me, 
he  jumped  behind  a  tree  and  gave  an  Indian  whoop,  sup- 
posing I  would  run.  I  drew  up  my  gun,  and  would  have 
shot  him  if  he  had  not  cried  out  for  quarters,  in  honest 
old  Anglo  Saxon.  He  was  much  alarmed,  and  was  doubt 
less  satisfied  that  it  was  entirely  too  hazardous  to  repeat 
the  trick. 

We  all  lived  in  constant  danger,  and  exposed  to  death , 
And  although  there  were  spies  constantly  ranging  betweexi 
the  settlements  and  the  Ohio  river,  from  Limestone  to  Big 
Sandy,  yet  the  Indians  would  come  in  undiscovered,  and 
kill  our  friends,  and  steal  the  horses.  We  had  to  depend, 
for  our  daily  living,  on  the  hunters,  and  what  we  could 
kill  ourselves  of  the  wild  game.  This  gave  me- an  early 
love  for  the  chase,  which  grew  with  my  growth  and 
strengthened  with  my  strength,  till  I  had  almost,  at  the 
age  of  sixteen,  become  an  Indian  in  my  habits  and  feel- 
ings. The  country  was  infested  with  wolves,  and  they 
were  remarkably  daring  and  impudent.  They  would  at- 
tack grown  cattle,  and  kill  colts  and  two-years  old  cows. 
While  hunting  the  cows  one  morning  in  the  woods,  in 
company  with  a  lad  a  little  older  than-  myself,  we  heard  a 
cow  bellowing  at  a  piteous  rate  ;  and,  supposing  it  was  In- 
dians trying  to  decoy  us,  we  crept  up  with  the  tread  of  a 


iiEV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  3i) 

.•.at,  and,  from  the  top  of  the  ridge,  looked  over  and  saw 
rive  wolves  hanging  on  to  a  large  cow,  while  she  wa* 
struggling  to  free  herself,  and  aiming  for  home.  As  she 
came  toward  ns,  we  took  the  best  position  we  could,  and 
waited  their  arrival.  We  fired  by  concert,  killing  two, 
and  wounding  a  third.  The  wolves  instantly  loosed  their 
hold,  ran  a  few  paces,  and  set  up  a  terrible  howl.  Fear- 
Rig  a  fresh  supply  of  this  ferocious  animal,  we  ran  home, 
and  returning  with  help,  to  see  what  was  done,  we  found 
two,  and  tracked  the  other  by  its  blood  some  distance. 

Such  were  the  dangers  and  hardships  to  which  we  were 
constantly  exposed,  that  my  father  sold  out  his  posses- 
sions, and  removed  to  Bourbon  county,  and  settled  on 
what  was  then  called  the  Cane  Ridge.  •  This  was  in  the 
spring  of  1790. 

'  The  land  purchased  by  my  father  was  a  part  of  an  un- 
broken cane-brake  extending  for  twenty  miles  toward  what 
was  called  the  Little  Mountain.  We  had  to  cut  out  roads 
before  we  could  haul  the  logs  to  build  our  cabins.  The 
cane  was  so  thick  and  tall,  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  a  horse  or  cow  to  pass  through  it.  We  first  cut  the 
cane,  and  gathered  it  into  piles  to  be  burned.  This  was 
oerformed  by  a  cane-hoe.  The  next  thing  was  to  plow, 
which  was  done  by  first  cutting  the  cane  roots  with  a 
coulter  fastened  to  a  stock  of  wood,  which  was  called  the 
blue  boar.  This  turned  no  furrow ;  and  hence  it  was  nec- 
essary to  follow  it  with  the  bar  shear,  which  turned  ovei 
the  sod. 

My  father  had  two  congregations,  one  at  this  place 
and  the  other  at  Concord,  both  of  which  were  prosperous. 
Many  were  gathered  into  the  Church  and  devoted  to  re- 
ligion. . 

Here  my  father  opened  a  high  school,  in  which  was 
taught  the  languages  as  well  as  the  higher  branches  of 
an  English  ^ucation.     It  was  the  first  pchool  of  the  kind 


40  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

in  the  state;  and  ten  or  twelve  young  men  were  edu- 
cated here  who  afterward  became  Presbyterian  preachers. 
Judges  Trimble  and  Mills  here  learned  their  first  gram- 
mar lesson.  This  institution  flourished  for  a  number  of 
years.  The  subject  of  education  was  of  great  importance 
in  the  early  settlement  of  the  country ;  but  its  importance 
increases  in  proportion  to  its  growth  and  advancement 
The  mind  of  mm  on  his  entrance  into  our  disordered 
world,  is  destitute  of  knowledge  of  every  kind,  but  is  ca- 
pable of  vast  acquirements  and  prodigious  expansion ; 
and  on  this  his  happiness  and  usefulness  depend.  But  il 
must  be  acquired  by  education ;  and  whatever  opens  the 
door  to  facilitate  this  object,  will  be  productive  of  the 
greatest  good,  both  to  the  individual  and  the  community 
at  large.  The  expansion  of  the  mind  makes  the  man, 
therefore,  this  gem  of  the  greatest  value  ought  to  be 
sought  after  with  interest  by  the  whole  mass  of  mankind; 
and,  instead  of  pursuing,  with  so  much  avidity,  the  things 
which  belong  to  the  body,  and  are  only  calculated  to  grat- 
ify the  animal  passions  and  appetites,  and  alone  to  pro- 
mote that  kind  of  happiness  which  is  the  lowest  of  which 
man  is  capable,  the  whole  world,  and  every  man  and 
woman  in  it,  ought  to  regard  the  improvement  of  the 
mind  as  the  most  valuable  acquisition  within  their  grasp, 
both  for  here  and  hereafter.  It  was  the  purpose  of  God, 
in  the  very  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  that  he  should 
be  wise ;  and  that  in  this  consists  alone  his  true  greatness 
and  unending,  consummate  felicity.  On  this  depends  the 
happiness  of  social  intercourse,  the  enjoyments  of  all  civil 
and  religious  privileges,  the  advancement  in  the  arts  and 
sciences,  and  the  commerce  of  the  world.  Indeed,  it  raises 
man  from  the  common  level  of  a  beast  and  brutish  enjoy- 
ments, to  the  exalted  dignity  of  a  rational  being.  Is  it 
rtot  for  a  want  of  a  proper  conception  of  the  great  worth 
of  the  improvement  of  the  mind,  that  it  is  so  much  neg- 


REV.   JAMES    B.   F1NLET.  41. 

fected,  and  so  little  sought  after?  Ignorance,  like  a  deep 
»nd  dark  cloud,  has  hung  over  the  mind  of  man,  and  has 
obscured  the  brilliant  rays  of  this  hallowed  intellectual 
sue:  ;  and  but  few  in  the  world,  comparatively,  have  felt 
its  warming  rays,  or  seen  the  glory  of  its  brightness; 
and  yet  it  is  within  the  reach  of  all,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree. 

Every  good  man,  every  lover  of  his  country,  every  bad 
man  ought  to  use  his  influence  to  encourage  and  sustain, 
with  his  property  and  by  the  education  of  his  children, 
every  effort  to  banish  the  cursed  monster  ignorance  from 
our  happy  country.  A  man  may  boast  of  his  patriotism, 
and  his  exceeding  great  love  of  our  free  and  happy  in- 
stitutions, but  if  he  neglects  to  lend  his  aid  to  the  work 
of  education,  he  does  most  emphatically  contradict,  by  his 
conduct,  his  profession,  and,  like  all  other  such  men,  may 
justly  be  branded  with  the  disgraceful  appellation  of  hyp- 
ocrite. Will  men  make  this  boast  loud  and  vociferous : 
look  at  their  children  at  home;  and,  when  not  yoked  up, 
like  their  oxen,  to  work,  they  are  running  at  large,  and 
rot  the  least  attention  paid  to  the  improvement  of  their 
minds.  If  they  can  have  the  benefit  of  a  public  school 
for  three  months  in  the  winter,  it  is  very  well ;  for,  at  this 
time  of  year,  they  have  no  use  for  them,  and  it  costs 
them  nothing  to  send  them  to  school.  Now,  my  friend, 
let  me  ask  you  a  question:  Which  would  you  rather  see: 
your  son  go  out  into  the  world  with  the  attainments  of  a 
good,  sound,  English  education,  and  be  able  to  associate 
with  the  wise,  and  good,  and  great;  or  set  him  down  on  a 
farm  a  novice,  and,  in  point  of  intelligence,  but  a  very 
little  above  the  horse  he  plows  with?  If  you  prefer  the 
last,  I  pity  both  you  and  your  children.  If  you  have  any 
thing  to  give  your  children,  do,  for  their  sakes  and  for 
the  sake  of  society,  put  some  of  it  into  their  heads;  for 
you  would  feel  much  better  to  see  your  son  or  daughter 


4:2  AUTOBIOGRArilYOK 

poor,  but  wise,  than  to  see  him  a  rich  fool,  the  butt  and 
ridicule  of  society.  And  let  me  ask  the  parents,  vhai 
kind  of  a  man  do  you  think  he  would  be,  who  would 
marry  your  daughter,  if  a  rich  fool ;  or  how  mean  must 
the  man  be,  that  would  marry  a  fool  for  her  riches? 
Make  them  intelligent,  for  men  of  intelligence  will  seek 
such  for  their  companions  through  life. 

The  facilities  for  education  are  now  opening  in  almost 
every  part  of  the  country,  and  this  invaluable  fortune  for 
your  children  can  now  be  had  on  easy  terms.  Embrace 
it;  do  not  curse  your  offspring  with  being  the  dupes  and 
servants  of  their  better-educated  fellow-citizens.  An  igno- 
rant man  must  always  remain  a  Liliput  in  intellect,  and 
a  Tom- Thumb -being  in  society,  comparatively  speak- 
ing. A  few  years  since,  when  the  subject  of  instruction 
was  enjoined  on  our  people  from  the  pulpit,  the  excuse 
then  was,  "We  have  no  institution  of  our  own;  none  con- 
venient." Now  we  have  gotten  up  several,  and  the  hard 
times  is  now  the  grand  excuse ;  so  there  seems  to  be  a 
lack  of  disposition.  Reflect  soberly  on  this  mighty  ques- 
tion, and  decide  on  the  side  of  duty,  and  not  of  dollars 
and  cents ;  for  it  does  appear  to  me,  that  if  a  poor  man 
could  be  justified  for  theft  on  any  principle  whatever,  it 
wculd  be  to  steal  to  educate  his  children. 


KEY.     JAMES    B.     F1NLEI.  43 


CHAPTER    II. 

CHARACTER    OF    THE    BACKWOODSMAN. 

I  deem  it  proper,  before  proceeding  further  with  my 
narrative,  to  give  the  reader  an  account  of  some  of  the 
early  settlers  of  the  western  country,  denominated  back- 
woodsmen. On  this  subject  I  hope  my  readers  will  par- 
don me,  should  they  think  I  indulge  in  a  too  highly- 
wrought  eulogy  of  their  character.  I  am  well  aware  that 
those  who  are  not  acquainted  with  the  scenes  and  circum- 
stances of  those  early  days,  will  be  disposed  to  regard  a 
description  of  the  deeds  of  daring  and  the  heroism  dis- 
played by  the  hardy  pioneer,  as  the  product  of  an  exuber- 
ant fancy  instead  of  plain,  unvarnished  matter  of  fact. 

To  relieve  the  mind  of  the  reader  on  this  point,  I  will 
here  state  that  nothing  shall  be  chronicled  by  me  which  is 
not  a  veritable  history  of  my  life  and  times.  "Truth 
needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  ornament;"  and  the  facts 
which  I  am  prepared  to  communicate  are  many  of  them 
more  wonderful  and  interesting  than  fiction.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  had  these  pioneers  lived  in  other  ages,  they 
would  have  ranked  with  the  deified  heroes  of  antiquity. 

The  stream  of  immigration  which  continued  to  pour  in 
from  the  older  states  into  all  parts  of  the  western  country, 
roused  all  the  native  jealousy  of  the  Indians,  and  they 
concentrated  all  their  powers  to  keep  the  white  man  from 
seizing  their  rich  hunting-grounds  and  robbing  them  of 
ihe  homes  and  graves  of  their  fathers.  Every  Indian 
riwore  his  child  upon  the  altar  of  eternal  hatred  to  the 
white  man.     So  constant,  persevering,  and   daring  were 


44  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

the  attacks  of  the  Indians  upon  the  frontier  settlements, 
that  all  the  force  which  could  be  raised  was  not  suffhieni 
to  repel  their  invasions. 

It  was  found  to  be  absolutely  necessary  to  change  the 
policy  from  that  of  a  defensive  to  an  offensive  war.  Ac- 
cordingly, General  Washington  raised  an  army  for  the 
purpose  pf  carrying  the  war  into  the  enemy's  country. 
The  command  of  this  army  was  given  to  General  Harmar 
The  history  of  this  ill-fated  campaign  I  shall  not  stop  here 
to  relate ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  only  served  to  whet  the 
appetite  of  the  Indians  and  give  them  a  keener  relish  foi 
deeds  of  revenge  and  cruelty.  Soon  after  followed  the 
defeat  of  St.  Clair,  which  added  fuel  to  the  flames;  and 
the  Indians,  flushed  with  success  and  full  of  hope  of  being 
able  finally  to  drive  the  white  man  from  their  hunting- 
grounds,  made  the  conflict  desperate  indeed.  It  was  a 
day  of  gloom  and  darkness  to  the  white  population,  and 
it  seemed  doubtful  which  would  gain  the  mastery.  Hun- 
dreds of  the  early  settlers  and  their  families  were  butch- 
ered by  the  Indians.  Many  who  retired  for  the  night 
were  surprised  and  murdered,  and  the  glare  of  their  burn- 
ing habitations,  shooting  up  amid  the  darkness,  told  the 
surrounding  settlements  of  the  work  of  death. 

To  prevent  this  state  of  things,  and  as  the  only  way  to 
be  secure  from  the  surprise  of  the  savages,  the  choicest 
men  of  the  country  were  selected  as  spies.  Men  of  the 
greatest  integrity,  courage,  and  activity,  and  who  were 
well  skilled  in  all  the  modes  of  savage  warfare,  were 
chosen,  and  among  the  number  I  will  mention  the  names 
of  William  Bennet,  Mercer  Beason,  Duncan  M'Arthur, 
Nathaniel  Beasley,  and  Samuel  Davis.  These  men  were 
dressed  like  Indians.  They  were  to  guard  the  passes  of 
the  Ohio  from  Maysville  to  Big  Sandy.  While  some  of 
these  were  passing  up  the  river  between  these  two  points 
others  were  coming  down,  so  that  it  was  almost  impossible 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLET.  45 

for  the  Indians,  in  any  considerable  numbers,  to  cross 
over  from  the  Ohio  side  without  discovery.  When  they 
did  cross  the  river,  the  settlements  were  apprised  of  the 
fact  and  put  on  their  guard.  These  sentinels  often  en- 
countered great  hardship  and  dangers.  The  ordeals 
through  which  they  passed  were  abundantly  sufficient  to 
test  the  courage  of  the  stoutest  heart. 

On  one  occasion  M'Arthur  and  Davis  stopped  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Scioto  river,  where  Portsmouth  now  stands, 
and  went  across  the  bottom  to  watch  a  deer-lick,  well 
known,  near  the  foot  of  the  hill.  It  was  a  foggy  morning, 
and  an  object  could  not  be  discerned  distinctly  fifty  yards 
oft'.  M'Arthur  stopped  and  Davis  crawled  up  to  the  lick 
with  the  stealth  of  a  cat.  When  he  straightened  himself 
up  to  look  into  the  lick,  instantly  he  heard  the  sharp  crack 
of  a  rifle,  the  ball  of  which  whistled  by  his  head.  The  fog, 
together  with  the  smoke  of  the  gun,  prevented  the  Indian 
from  seeing  whether  he  had  effected  his  object.  Without 
moving  out  of  his  place,  Davis  raised  his  gun  and  the 
moment  the  Indian  stepped  out  of  the  smoke  of  his  rifle  he 
fired,  and  the  savage  fell  dead  in  his  tracks.  M'Arthur 
knowing  that  the  firing  was  in  too  quick  succession  to  be 
made  by  one  person,  ran  up  to  the  spot;  but  no  sooner 
had  he  reached  it  than  they  heard  the  yell  and  rush  of 
many  Indians.  They  instantly  started  for  the  river,  and 
being  covered,  in  their  retreat,  by  the  dense  fog,  they 
reached  their  canoe  and  darted  out  into  the  stream. 

Some  time  during  the  next  season,  M'Arthur  went  to 
watch  the  same  lick.  He  had  not  been  seated  long  in  his 
blind  till  two  Indians  made  their  appearance  and  were 
coming  directly  toward  him.  As  the  best  and  safest 
course  he  chose  the  boldest,  and  with  a  firm  nerve  and 
steady  aim  he  fired.  Whiz  went  the  ball,  and  down  fell 
one  of  the  Indians.  The  other,  instead  of  running,  stood 
still.     Several  other  Indians,  hearing  the   report  of  the 


46  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

gun,  came  running  to  the  lick,  whereupon  M'Arthui 
sprang  from  his  hiding-place  and  bounded  away.  As  he 
ran  they  fired  upon  him,  and  one  of  the  balls  striking  his 
powder-horn,  drove  the  splinters  into  his  side.  Not  seeing 
him  fall,  they  started  in  hot  pursuit.  Being  exceedingly 
fleet-footed,  he  distanced  them  so  far  that  they  slackened 
their  pace.  He  aimed  his  course  for  the  river,  and  find- 
ing his  faithful  companion  waiting  for  him  they  pushed 
out  into  the  stream.  Scarcely  had  they  reached  the  mid- 
dle of  the  stream  ere  they  were  saluted  with  the  yell  of 
the  savages  on  the  bank.  Fearing  they  might  be  fired 
upon,  they  redoubled  their  energy,  and  the  swift  canoe 
sped  over  the  surface  like  a  bird.  They  soon  were  out  of 
the  gunshot  of  the  enemy,  and  reached  in  safety  the 
other  shore. 

As  a  further  illustration  of  a  backwoods  life,  I  will  here 
give  the  reader  an  account  of  some  deeds  of  noble  daring 
which  occurred  in  Ohio : 

As  early  as  the  year  1790  the  block-house  and  stock- 
ade above  the  mouth  of  the  Hockhocking  river  was  a 
frontier  post  for  the  hardy  pioneers  of  the  North-western 
territory.  There  nature  was  in  her  undisturbed  livery 
of  dark  and  thick  forests,  interspersed  with  green  and 
flowing  prairies.  Then  the  forest  had  not  heard  the  sound 
of  the  woodman's  ax,  nor  the  plow  of  the  husbandman 
opened  the  bosom  of  the  earth.  Then  the  beautiful  prai- 
ries waved  their  golden  bloom  to  the  God  of  nature ;  and 
among  the  most  luxuriant  of  these  were  those  which  lay 
along  the  Hockhocking  valley,  and  especially  that  portion 
of  it  on  which  the  town  of  Lancaster  now  stands.  This 
place,  for  its  beauty,  its  richness  of  soil,  and  picturesque 
scenery,  was  selected  as  a  location  for  an  Indian  village. 
This  afforded  a  suitable  place  for  the  gambols  of  the  In 
dian  sportsman,  as  well  as  a  central  spot  for  concentrating 
the  Indian  warriors. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  41 

Here  the  tribes  of  the  west  and  north  met  to  counsel, 
and  from  this  spot  led  forth  the  war-path  in  different 
directions.  Upon  one  of  those  occasions,  when  the  war 
spirit  moved  mightily  among  those  sons  of  nature,  and 
the  tomahawk  leaped  in  its  scabbard,  and  the  spirits  of 
their  friends,  who  had  died  in  the  field  of  battle,  visited 
the  warrior  in  his  night  visions  and  called  loudly  for 
revenge,  it  was  ascertained  at  the  garrison  above  -the 
mouth  of  the  Hockhocking  river,  that  the  Indians  were 
gathering  in  great  numbers  for  the  purpose  of  striking  a 
blow  on  some  post  of  the  frontiers.  To  meet  this  crisis, 
two  of  the  most  skilled  and  indefatigable  spies  were  dis- 
patched to  watch  their  movements  and  report.  White 
and  M'Cleland,  two  spirits  that  never  quailed  at  danger, 
and  as  unconquerable  as  the  Lybian  lion,  in  the  month  of 
October,  and  on  one  of  those  balmy  days  of  Indian  sum- 
mer, took  leave  of  their  fellows  and  moved  on  through 
the  thick  plum  and  hazel  bushes  with  the  noiseless  tread 
of  the  panther,  armed  with  their  unerring  and  trusty 
rifles.  They  continued  their  march,  skirting  the  prairies, 
till  they  reached  that  most  remarkable  prominence,  now 
known  by  the  name  of  Mount  Pleasant,  the  western  term- 
ination of  which  is  a  perpendicular  cliff  of  rocks  of  some 
hundreds  feet  high,  and  whose  summit,  from  a  western 
view,  towers  to  the  clouds  and  overlooks  the  vast  plain 
below.  When  this  point  was  gained,  our  hardy  spies 
held  a  position  from  which  they  could  see  every  movement 
of  the  Indians  below  in  the  valley.  Every  day  added  a 
new  accession  of  warriors  to  the  company.  They  wit- 
nessed their  exercises  of  horse-racing,  running  foot-races, 
jumping,  throwing  the  tomahawk,  and  dancing — the  old 
sachems  looking  on  with  their  Indian  indifference,  the 
squaws  engaged  in  their  usual  drudgery,  and  the  children 
m  their  playful  gambols.  The  arrival  of  a  new  war-party 
was  greeted  with  terrible  shouts,  which,  striking  the  mmaJ 


48  AUTOBIOGEAPHY    OF 

face  of  Mount  Pleasant,  were  driven  back  in  the  various 
Indentations  of  the  surrounding  hills,  producing  reverbera- 
tions and  echoes  as  if  ten  thousand  fiends  were  gathered 
at  a  universal  levee.  Such  yells  would  have  struck  terror 
to  the  hearts  of  those  unaccustomed  to  Indian  revelry 
To  our  spies  this  was  but  martial  music — strains  which 
waked  their  watchfulness,  and  newly  strung  their  veteran 
courage.  From  their  early  youth  they  had  been  always 
on  the  frontier,  and  were  well  practiced  in  all  the  subtilty, 
craft,  and  cunning  of  Indian  warfare,  as  well  as  the  feroc- 
ity and  bloodthirsty  nature  of  these  savage  warriors. 
They  were,  therefore,  not  likely  to  be  insnared  by  their 
cunning,  nor  without  a  desperate  conflict  to  fall  victims  to 
their  scalping-knives  or  tomahawks.  On  several  occa- 
sions, small  parties  left  the  prairie  and  ascended  the  mount 
from  the  eastern  side.  On  these  occasions  the  spies  would 
hide  in  the  deep  fissures  of  the  rocks  on  the  west,  and 
again  leave  their  hiding-places  when  their  uninvited  and 
unwelcome  visitors  had  disappeared. 

For  food  they  depended  on  jerked  venison  and  corn 
tread,  with  which  their  knapsacks  were  well  stored. 
They  dare  not  kindle  a  fire,  and  the  report  of  one  of  their 
rifles  would  bring  upon  them  the  entire  force  of  the  Indi- 
ans. For  drink  they  depended  on  some  rain-water  which 
still  stood  in  the  hollows  of  some  of  the  rocks;  but  in  a 
short  time  this  store  was  exhausted,  and  M'Cleland  and 
White  must  abandon  their  enterprise  or  find  a  new  supply. 
To  accomplish  this  most  hazardous  enterprise,  M'Cleland, 
being  the  oldest,  resolved  to  make  the  attempt;  and  with 
his  trusty  rifle  in  his  hand  and  their  two  canteens  strung 
across  his  shoulders,  he  cautiously  descended,  by  a  circui- 
tous route,  to  the  prairie,  skirting  the  hills  on  the  north, 
and  under  covert  of  the  hazel  thickets  he  reached  the 
rivTer,  and  turning  a  bold  point  of  a  hill,  he  found  a  beau- 
tiful spring  within  a  few  feet  of  the  river,  now  known  by 


REV,     JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  49 

the  name  of  the  Cold  Spring-,  on  the  farm  of  D.  Talmadgc, 
Esq.  He  filled  his  canteens  and  returned  in  safety  to  his 
watchful  companion.  It  was  now  determined  to  have  a 
fresh  supply  of  water  every  day,  and  this  duty  was  per- 
formed alternately. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  after  White  had  filed  his 
canteens,  he  sat  a  few  moments  watching  the  limpid  ele- 
ment as  it  came  gurgling  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  earth, 
when  the  light  sound  of  footsteps  caught  his  practiced  ear, 
and  upon  turning  round  he  saw  two  squawrs  within  a  few 
feet  of  him.  Upon  turning  the  jut  of  the  hill,  the  eldest 
squaw  gave  one  of  those  far-reaching  whoops  peculiar  to 
Indians.  White  at  once  comprehended  his  perilous  situa- 
tion. If  the  alarm  should  reach  the  camps  or  town,  he 
and  his  companion  must  inevitably  perish.  Self-preserva- 
tion compelled  him  to  inflict  a  noiseless  death  on  the 
squaws,  and  in  such  a  manner  as,  if  possible,  to  leave  no 
trace  behind.  Ever  rapid  in  thought  and  prompt  in  ac- 
tion, he  sprang  upon  his  victims  with  the  rapidity  and 
power  of  the  lion,  and  grasping  the  throat  of  each  sprang 
into  the  river.  He  thrust  the  head  of  the  eldest  under  the 
water.  While  making  strong  efforts  to  submerge  the 
younger,  who,  however,  powerfully  resisted  him,  and 
during  the  short  struggle  with  this  young  athletic,  to  his 
astonishment  she  addressed  him  in  his  own  language, 
though  in  almost  inarticulate  sounds.  Releasing  his  hold 
she  informed  him  that  she  had  been  a  prisoner  for  ten 
years,  and  was  taken  from  below  Wheeling,  and  that  the 
Indians  had  killed  all  the  family,  and  that  her  brother  and 
herself  were  taken  prisoners,  but  he  succeeded,  on  the 
second  night,  in  making  his  escape.  During  this  narra- 
tive White  had  drowned  the  elder  squaw,  and  had  let  hei 
float  off  with  the  current,  where  it  would  not  probably  be 
found  out  soon.  He  now  directed  the  girl  to  follow  him, 
and   witn  his  usual   speed   and  energy  pushed   for    the 

4 


hQ  a  CTO  BIOGRAPHY    OF 

mount.  They  had  scarcely  gone  half  way  when  they 
heard  the  alarm  cry  some  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the 
stream.  It  was  :upposed  some  party  of  Indians,  return- 
ing from  hunting,  struck  the  river  just  as  the  body  of  the 
squaw  floated  past.  White  and  the  girl  succeeded  iL 
reaching  the  mount,  where  M'Cleland  had  been  no  indif- 
ferent spectator  to  the  sudden  commotion  among  the  Indi- 
ans. The  prairie  parties  of  warriors  were  seen  immedi- 
ately to  strike  off  in  every  direction,  and  White  and  the 
girl  had  scarcely  arrived  before  a  party  of  some  twenty 
warriors  had  reached  the  eastern  acclivity  of  the  mount, 
and  were  cautiously  and  carefully  keeping  under  cover. 
Soon  the  spies  saw  their  swarthy  foes  as  they  glided  from 
tree  to  tree  and  rock  to  rock,  till  their  position  was  sur- 
rounded, except  on  the  west  perpendicular  side,  and  all 
hope  of  escape  was  cut  off.  In  this  perilous  condition, 
nothing  was  left  but  to  sell  their  lives  as  dear  as  possible, 
and  this  they  resolved  to  do,  and  advised  the  girl  to  escape 
to  the  Indians  and  tell  them  she  had  been  taken  prisoner. 
She  said,  "No!  death  to  me,  in  the  presence  of  my  own 
people,  is  a  thousand  times  sweeter  than  captivity  and 
slavery.  Furnish  me  with  a  gun,  and  I  will  show  you  I 
can  fight  as  well  as  die.  This  place  I  leave  not.  Here 
my  bones  shall  lie  bleaching  with  yours,  and  should  either 
of  you  escape  you  will  carry  the  tidings  of  my  death  to 
my  few  relations."  Remonstrance  proved  fruitless.  The 
two  spies  quickly  matured  their  plan  of  defense,  and  vig- 
orously commenced  the  attack  from  the  front,  where,  from 
the  very  narrow  backbone  of  the  mount,  the  savages  had 
to  advance  in  single  file,  and  without  any  covert.  Feyond 
this  neck  the  warriors  availed  themselves  of  the  locks  and 
trees  in  advancing,  but  in  passing  from  one  to  the  othei 
they  must  be  exposed  for  a  short  time,  and  a  moment's 
exposure  of  their  swarthy  forms  was  enough  for  the  un- 
erring rifles   of   the   spies.     The  Indians    being  entirely 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FIN  LET.  51 

ignorant  of  how  many  were  in  ambuscade,  made  them  the 
more  cautious  how  they  advanced. 

After  bravely  maintaining  the  fight  in  front  and  keep- 
ing the  enemy  in  check,  they  discovered  a  new  danger 
threatening  them.  The  arch  foe  now  made  evident  prep- 
arations to  attack  them  on  the  flank,  which  could  be  most 
successfully  done  by  reaching  an  isolated  rock  lying  in 
one  of  the  ravines  on  the  southern  hill-side.  This  rock 
once  gained  by  the  Indians,  they  could  bring  the  spies 
under  point-blank  shot  of  the  rifle  without  the  possibility 
of  escape.  Our  brave  spies  saw  the  hopelessness  of  their 
situation,  which  nothing  could  avert  but  a  brave  compan- 
ion and  an  unerring  shot.  These  they  had  not;  but  the 
brave  never  despair.  With  this  impending  fate  resting 
upon  them,  they  continued  calm  and  calculating,  and  as 
unwearied  as  the  strongest  desire  of  life  and  the  resistance 
of  a  numerous  foe  could  produce.  Soon  M'Cleland  saw  a 
tall  and  swarthy  figure  preparing  to  spring  from  a  covert 
so  near  to  the  fatal  rock  that  a  bound  or  two  would  reach 
it,  and  all  hope  of  life  then  was  gone.  He  felt  that  all 
depended  on  one  single  advantageous  shot;  and  although 
but  an  inch  or  two  of  the  warrior's  body  was  exposed, 
and  that  at  the  distance  of  eighty  or  a  hundred  yards,  he 
resolved  to  risk  all,  coolly  raised  his  rifle  to  his  face, 
and  shading  the  sight  with  his  hand,  he  drew  a  bead  so 
sure  that  he  felt  conscious  it  would  do  the  deed.  He 
touched  the  trigger  with  his  finger;  the  hammer  came 
dawn,  but  in  place  of  striking  fire,  it  broke  his  flint  into 
many  pieces;  and  although  he  felt  that  the  Indian  must 
reach  the  rock  before  he  could  adjust  another  flint,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  task  with  the  utmost  composure.  Casting 
his  eye  toward  the  fearful  point,  suddenly  he  saw  the  war- 
rior sti  itching  every  muscle  for  the  leap ;  and  with  the 
agility  of  the  panther  he  made  the  spring,  but  instead  of 
reaching  the  rock,  he  gave  a  most  hideous  yell,  and  his 


52  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

dark  body  fell  and  rolled  down  the  steep  into  the  valley 
below.  He  had  evidently  received  a  death  shot  from  somo 
unknown  hand.  A  hundred  voices  re-echoed,  from  below, 
the  terrible  shout.  It  was  evident  that  they  had  lost  a 
favorite  warrior  as  well  as  being  disappointed,  for  a  time, 
of  the  most  important  movement.  A  very  few  minutes 
proved  that  the  advantage  gained  would  be  of  short  dura- 
tion ;  for  already  the  spies  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  tall, 
swarthy  warrior  cautiously  advancing  to  the-  covert  so 
recently  occupied  by  his  fellow-companion.  Now,  too; 
the  attack  in  front  was  renewed  with  increased  fury,  so  as 
to  require  the  incessant  fire  of  both  spies  to  prevent  the 
Indians  from  gaining  the  eminence ;  and  in  a  short  time 
M'Cleland  saw  a  warrior  making  preparations  to  leap  to 
the  fatal  rock.  The  leap  was  made,  and  the  Indian  turn- 
ing a  somerset,  his  corpse  rolled  down  the  hill  toward  his 
former  companion.  Again  an  unknown  agent  had  inter- 
posed in  their  behalf.  This  second  sacrifice  cast  dismay 
into  the  ranks  of  the  assailants,  and  just  as  the  sun  was 
disappearing  behind  the  western  hills  the  foe  withdrew  for 
a  short  distance,  to  devise  some  new  mode  of  attack.  This 
respite  came  most  seasonable  to  our  spies,  who  had  kept 
their  ground  and  bravely  maintained  the  unequal  fight 
from  nearly  the  middle  of  the  day. 

Now  for  the  first  time  was  .the  girl  missing;  and  the 
spies  thought  that  through  terror  she  had  escaped  to  her 
former  captors,  or  that  she  had  been  killed  during  the 
light;  but  they  were  not  long  left  to  conjecture.  The  girl 
was  seen  emerging  from  behind  a  rock  and  coming  to  them 
with  a  rifle  in  her  hand.  During  the  heat  of  the  fight  she 
saw  a  warrior  fall  who  had  acR&nced  some  distance  before 
the  rest,  and  while  some  of  them  changed  their  position 
she  resolved  at  once,  live  or  die,  to  possess  herself  of  his 
gun  and  ammunition ;  and  crouching  down  beneath  th* 
underbrush,  she  crawled  to  the  place  and  succeeded  in 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  63 

er  enterprise.  Her  keen  and  watchful  eye  had  early  no- 
iced  the  fatal  rock,  and  hers  was  the  mysterious  hand  by 
which  the  two  warriors  fell;  the  last  being  the  most 
intrepid  and  bloodthirsty  of  the  Shawnee  tribe,  and  the 
leader  of  the  company  which  killed  her  mother  and  sis- 
ters, and  took  her  and  her  brother  prisoners. 

Now,  in  the  west,  arose  dark  clouds,  which  soon  over- 
spread the  whole  heavens,  and  the  elements  were  rent 
with  the  peals  of  thunder.  Darkness,  deep  and  gloomy, 
shrouded  the  whole  heavens:  this  darkness  greatly  em- 
barrassed the  spies  in  their  contemplated  night  escape, 
supposing  that  they  might  readily  lose  their  way,  and  ac- 
cidentally fall  on  their  enemy;  but  a  short  consultation 
decided  the  plan ;  it  was  agreed  that  the  girl  should  go 
foremost,  from  her  intimate  knowledge  of  the  localities, 
and  another  advantage  might  be  gained  in  case  they 
should  fall  in  with  any  of  the  parties  or  outposts.  From 
her  knowledge  of  their  language,  she  might  deceive  the 
nentinels,  as  the  sequel  proved;  for  scarcely  had  they  de- 
scended a  hundred  yards,  when  a  low  whist  from  the  girl 
warned  them  of  their  danger.  The  spies  sunk  silently  to 
the  ground,  where,  by  previous  engagement,  they  were  to 
remain  till  the  signal  was  given,  by  the  girl,  to  move  on. 
Her  absence,  for  the  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  began 
to  excite  the  most  serious  apprehensions.  Again  she  ap- 
peared, and  told  them  she  had  succeeded  in  removing 
two  sentinels  to  a  short  distance,  who  were  directly  in 
their  route.  The  descent  was  noiselessly  resumed,  and 
the  spies  followed  their  intrepid  leader  for  a  half  mile  in 
the  most  profound  silence,  when  the  barking  of  a  dog 
at  a  short  distance  apprised  them  of  new  danger.  The 
almost  simultaneous  click  of  the  spies'  rifles  was  heard  by 
the  girl,  who  stated  that  they  wTere  now  in  the  midst  01 
the  Indian  camps,  and  their  lives  now  depended  on  the 
most  profound  silence,  and  implicitly  following  her  foot- 


&4  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

steps.  A  moment  afterward,  the  girl  was  accosted  by  * 
squaw,  from  an  opening  in  her  wigwam :  she  replied  in 
the  Indian  language,  and,  without  stopping,  still  pressed 
forward.  In  a  short  time  she  stopped,  and  assured  the 
spies  that  the  village  was  now  cleared,  and  that  they  had 
passed  the  greatest  danger.  She  knew  that  every  leading 
pass  was  guarded  safely  by  the  Indians,  and  at  once  re- 
solved to  adopt  the  bold  adventure  of  passing  through 
the  center  of  the  village,  as  the  least  hazardous ,  and  the 
sequel  proved  the  correctness  of  her  judgment.  They 
now  steered  a  course  for  the  Ohio  river,  and,  after  three 
days'  travel,  arrived  safe  at  the  block-house.  Their  es- 
cape and  adventure  prevented  the  Indians  from  their  con- 
templated attack ;  and  the  rescued  girl  proved  to  be  the 
sister  of  the  intrepid  Corneal  Washburn,  celebrated  in  the 
history  of  Indian  warfare,  and  as  the  renowned  spy  of 
Captain  Simon  Kenton's  bloody  Kentuckians.* 

Robert  M'Cleland  was  afterward,  in  1794,  a  spy  in 
Wayne's  army ;  and  few  men  were  ever  his  equal  in  ac- 
tivity, courage,  and  enduring  perseverance;  and,  as  we 
are  giving  specimens  of  the  backwoodsmen,  we  will  fol- 
low M'Cleland  in  the  history  of  his  life,  as  it  was  known 
and  narrated  by  others.  Colonel  John  M'Donald,  in  his 
Sketches  of  the  West,  and  who  was  also  a  spy  in  Wayne's 
army,  and  personally  acquainted  with  M'Cleland,  gives 
the  following  account  of  him : 

General  Wayne,  to  secure  his  army  from  the  possibil- 
ity of  being  ambuscaded,  employed  a  number  of  the  best 
woodsmen  the  frontier  afforded  to  act  as  spies  or  rangers. 
Captain  Ephraim  Kibby,  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Co- 
lumbia, above  Cincinnati,  commanded  the  principal  pari 
of  the  spies.     A  very  effective  division  of  the  rangers  was 


*lara  indebted  to  General  Sanderson,  of  Lancaster,  for  this  interesting 
narrative 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  56 

commanded  by  Captain  William  Wells,  who  had  beeE 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians  when  a  youth.  He  grew 
to  manhood  with  them,  and  was  well  acquainted  with  al 
their  wiles  and  stratagems.  About  eighteen  months  pre- 
vious to  this  campaign,  he  left  them  and  returned  to  civ- 
ilized life;  he  was  well  acquainted  with  several  of  their 
l*ngu?.g«s,  and  could  converse  fluently.  Attached  to  his 
command  were  a  few  choice  spirits.  Henry  Miller  and 
his  brother  Christopher  had  been  both  taken  prisoners 
when  quite  young,  adopted  into  an  Indian  family,  and 
reared  up  with  them;  and  Henry  lived  with  them  till  he 
was  twenty-four  years  of  age.  About  this  time,  although 
adopted  into  all  their  customs  and  manners,  he  thought 
of  making  his  escape,  and  returning  home.  This  he  com- 
municated to  his  brother  Christopher,  and  tried  to  per- 
suade him  to  accompany  him ;  but  all  his  arguments  were 
ineffectual.  Christopher  was  very  young  when  made  a 
captive ;  he  was  now  a  good  hunter,  an  expert  woodsman, 
and,  in  the  full  sense,  a  free  and  independent  Indian. 
Henry  set  off  alone,  and  arrived  safe  in  Kentucky.  Cap- 
tain Wells  was  well  acquainted  with  him  during  their  cap- 
tivity, and  knew  that  he  possessed  that  firm  intrepidity 
which  would  render  him  a  valuable  companion  in  time  of 
need.  To  these  were  added  Messrs.  Hickman,  Thorp, 
and  M'Cleland.  Colonel  M'Donald  says  he  was  one  of 
the  most  athletic  and  active  men  on  foot  that  has  ap- 
peared on  this  globe.  On  the  grand  parade  at  Fort 
Greenville,  where  there  was  a  very  little  declivity,  to 
s"how  his  activity  he  leaped  over  a  road-wagon  with  the 
cover  stretched  over  it.  The  wao-on  and  bows  were  eigRt 
feet  high  from  the  ground.  Captain  Wells  and  his  four 
companions  were  privileged  gentlemen  in  camp,  «nd  onlv 
called  on  to  do  duty  on  certain  special  occasions,  and  when 
on  duty  went  well  mounted.  The  headquarters  of  the 
army  being  at  Fort  Greenville,  in  the  month  of  June  Gen- 


50  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

era!  Wayne  dispatcned  Captain  Wells,  M'Uleland,  and 
Miller,  wi'h  orders  to  bring  into  camp  an  Indian  prisoner, 
in  order  that  lie  might  interrogate  him  as  to  the  future 
intentions  of  the  Indians.  They  proceeded  with  cautious 
steps  through  the  Indian  country,  crossed  the  St.  Mary's, 
and  thence  proceeded  to  the  Auglaize  river,  without  meet- 
ing any  straggling  Indian.  In  passing  up  the  Auglaize 
they  discovered  a  smoke,  and,  dismounting,  tied  theii 
horses,  and  proceeded  cautiously  to  reconnoiter  the  ene- 
my. They  found  three  Indians  camped  on  a  high,  open 
piece  of  ground,  clear  of  brush  or  underwood.  They 
found  it  would  be  difficult  to  approach  within  gunshot, 
without  being  discovered.  At  a  proper  distance  from 
their  camp,  they  saw  the  top  of  a  tree  which  had  been 
blown  down,  and  full  of  leaves.  Believing  this  would 
answer  their  purpose,  and  screen  them  from  observation, 
they  returned,  went  round,  and  crept  on  their  hands  and 
knees  with  the  noiseless  movement  of  the  panther.  The 
Indians  were  engaged  roasting  their  venison,  talking  and 
laughing,  not  dreaming  that  death  was  stealing  a  march 
upon  them.  Having  arrived  at  the  fallen  tree,  their  mode 
of  attack  was  soon  settled.  They  determined  to  kill  two 
of  the  enemy,  and  take  the  third  prisoner.  M'Cleland, 
who  was  almost  as  swift  on  foot  as  a  deer,  was  to  catch 
the  Indian,  while  to  Miller  and  Wells  was  confided  the 
duty  of  shooting  the  other  two;  one  was  to  shoot  the  one 
on  the  right,  and  the  other  the  one  on  the  left;  and  at 
the  sharp  crack  of  their  rifles,  two  fell;  for  their  aim  was 
at  the  heart.  Before  the  smoke  of  the  powder  had  risen 
six  feet,  M'Cleland  was  running  at  full  stretch,  with  tom- 
anawk  in  hand,  for  the  Indian.  The  Indian  bounded  off 
ac  the  top  of  his  speed,  down  the  river.  But,  continuing 
m  that  direction,  he  discovered  that  M'Cleland  would 
nead  him,  and  he  turned  his  course.  The  river  here  had 
a  bluff  bank,  about  twenty  feet  high.     When  he  came  to 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LET  .  57 

the  bant,  he  sprang  down  into  the  river,  the  bottom  of 
which  was  soft  mud,  and  he  sunk  up  to  his  middle.  At 
this  moment,  M'Cleland  came  to  the  top,  and  sprang  on 
him  without  hesitation.  As  they  were  wallowing  in  the 
mire,  the  Indian  drew  his  knife;  M'Cleland  raised  his 
tomahawk,  and  told  him  to  throw  down  his  knife,  or  he 
would  instantly  kill  him.  This  he  did,  and  surrendered 
without  further  resistance.  By  this  time,  Wells  and  his 
comrade  came  to  the  bank,  and  discovered  that  they  were 
both  sticking  in  the  mud.  As  the  prisoner  was  now 
secure,  they  went  round  and  helped  drag  the  prisoner  out 
of  the  mud,  and  tied  him.  He  was  very  sulky,  and  re- 
fused to  speak  either  English  or  Indian.  One  went  for  the 
horses,  while  the  other  two  washed  the  prisoner.  When 
washed,  he  turned  out  to  be  a  white  man,  but  still  refused 
to  speak,  or  give  any  account  of  himself.  After  they  had 
scaiped  the  dead,  they  set  out,  with  the  prisoner,  to  head- 
quarters. While  on  their  return,  Henry  Miller  began  to 
admit  the  idea  that  it  wras  possible  the  prisoner  might  be 
his  brother,  whom  he  had  left  with  the  Indians  some  years 
previous.  Under  this  impression,  he  rode  along  side  of 
him,  and  called  him  by  his  Indian  name.  At  the  sound 
of  1113  name  he  started,  and  eagerly  inquired  how  he  came 
to  know  his  name.  The  mystery  wras  solved ;  the  pris- 
oner was  indeed  Christopher  Miller,  his  brother.  A  mys- 
terious Providence  appeared  to  have  placed  Christopher 
Miller  in  a  position  by  which  his  life  was  preserved.  Had 
he  been  standing  on  the  right  or  left,  he  would  have 
been  killed.  When  they  arrived  at  camp,  the  prisonei 
was  placed  in  the  guard -house.  General  Wayne  fre- 
quently interrogated  him;  he  continued  sulky.  Captain 
Wells  and  Henry  Miller  were  constantly  with  him,  and  at 
length  prevailed  on  him  to  relinquish  his  thoughts  of 
returning  to  savage  life,  and  to  join  with  his  brother  and 
wnite  friends.     He   finally  assented  to  their  proposition, 


68  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

was  released,  and  well  mounted,  and  became  one  of 
Wells's  party. 

As  soon  as  Captain  Wells  and  company  had  rested 
themselves  and  horses,  they  were  anxious  foi  another  ad- 
venture with  the  red  men.  Time  without  action  becomes 
very  irksome  to  such  stirring  spirits.  Early  in  July  they 
again  left  Greenville.  Their  company  was  now  increased 
by  the  addition  of  Christopher  Miller.  Their  orders  were 
to  bring  in  prisoners  They  pushed  through  the  country, 
all  mounted,  dressed,  and  painted  in  the  best  Indian  style. 
Near  the  Auglaize,  they  met  a  single  Indian,  and  called 
on  him  to  surrender.  This  Indian,  notwithstanding  there 
were  six  to  one,  refused  to  obey :  he  leveled  his  riile,  and, 
as  the  whites  approached,  he  fired,  but  missed  his  mark, 
and  took  to  his  heels.  The  undergrowth  of  brush  was  so 
thick,  that  he  gained  on  them.  M'Cleland  and  Christo- 
phei  Miller  dismounted,  and  M'Cleland  soon  overtook 
him.  The  Indian,  finding  himself  overtaken,  turned,  and 
made  a  blow  at  M'Cleland  with  his  rifle;  and  as  M'Clel- 
and's  intention  was  not  to  kill,  he  kept  him  at  bay,  til! 
Miller  came  up;  then  they  closed  in  on  him,  and  made 
him  prisoner.  They  then  returned  to  headquarters,  at 
Fort  Greenville.  Their  prisoner  was  a  powerful  Potta- 
watamie  cnief,  whose  prowess  and  courage  were  scarcely 
equaled.  As  Christopher  Miller  had  acted  his  part  on 
this  occasion  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  comrades  he  had, 
as  he  merited,  their  entire  confidence. 

As  it  is  not  the  intention  to  narrate  all  the  lets  of  these 
spies  attached  to  Wayne's  army,  although  it  would  be  a 
most  interesting  narrative  to  western  readers,  we  have 
selected  a  few  of  the  adventures  performed  by  Captain 
Wells  and  his  intrepid  companions,  and  especially  of  Rob- 
ert M'Cleland.  History,  in  no  age  of  the  world,  fur- 
nishes so  many  instances  of  repeated  acts  of  bravery,  as 
were  performed  by  the  frontier  men,  especially  of  westers 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN LEY.  59 

Pennsylvania,  Virginia,  and  Kentucky ;  yet  these  act*;  of 
desperation  were  so  frequently  repeated  by  numbers,  thai 
they  were  scarcely  noticed  at  the  time  as  being  any  othei 
than  the  common  occurrences  of  the  day.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  during  General  Wayne's  campaign,  Weils 
and  his  comrades  brought  in  not  less  than  twenty  prison- 
ers, and  killed  more  than  an  equal  number.  Desperate 
as  they  were  in  combat,  that  bravery  was  only  a  part  of 
their  merit,  as  the  following  circumstance  will  show : 

On  one  of  their  tours  through  the  Indian  country,  as 
they  came  to  the  bank  of  the  river  St.  Mary's,  they  discov- 
ered a  family  of  Indians  coming  up  the  river,  in  a  canoe. 
They  dismounted,  and  concealed  themselves  near  the 
bank  of  the  river,  while  Wells  went  upon  the  bank,  in 
open  view,  and  called  to  the  Indians  to  come  over;  and, 
as  he  was  dressed  like  them,  and  could  speak  their  lan- 
guage as  well  as  themselves,  and  they  not  expecting  an 
enemy  in  that  part  of  the  country,  without  any  suspicion 
of  danger,  came  over.  The  moment  the  canoe  struck  the 
shore,  Wells  heard  his  comrades  cock  their  rifles,  as  they 
prepared  to  shoot  down  the  whole  company.  But  whc 
should  be  in  the  canoe  but  Wells's  Indian  father  and 
mother — with  whom  he  had  lived — and  their  children  ! 
He  called  on  his  comrades,  who  were  ready  to  pour  the 
deadly  fire,  to  desist.  He  then  informed  them  who  these 
Indians  were,  and  solemnly  declared  that  if  any  one  did 
injure  one  of  them,  he  would  put  a  ball  through  his  head. 
He  said  to  his  men,  that  that  family  had  fed  him  when 
hungry,  clothed  him  when  naked,  and  kindly  nursed  him 
when  sick,  and,  in  every  respect,  were  as  kind  and  aft'ec- 
tiona  3  to  him  as  they  were  to  their  own  children.  This 
short,  pathetic  speech  found  its  way  to  the  sympathetic 
hearts  of  his  leather  hunting-shirt  comrades,  although 
they  would  have  made  but  a  shabby  appearance,  on  being 
introduced  to  a  fashionable  tea  party,  or  into  a  splendid 


60  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

baL-room,  among  polished  grandees,  or  into  a  ceremo- 
nious levee,  to  pass  through  unmeaning  becks,  bows,  and 
courtesies.  The  present  was  a  scene  of  nature  and  grati- 
tude. They  all  at  once  entered  into  their  leader's  feel- 
ings. There  never  was  a  truly-brave  man  who  could 
hold  back  his  tear  of  sympathy  at  the  joy,  grief,  or  sor- 
row of  his  fellow-man.  It  is  the  timid  coward  who  is 
cruel  when  he  has  the  advantage.  These  hardy  soldiers 
approved  of  the  motives  of  their  captain,  threw  down 
their  guns  and  tomahawks,  went  to  the  canoe,  and  shook 
hands  with  the  trembling  Indians  in  the  most  friendly 
manner.  Captain  Wells  assured  his  Indian  friends  they 
had  nothing  to  fear  from  them,  and  advised  them,  as  Gen- 
eral Wayne  was  coming  with  an  overwhelming  army,  to 
make  peace,  and  his  Indian  father  to  take  his  family,  and 
get  out  of  all  danger.  They  then  bid  them  farewell,  and 
they  departed  in  haste.  This  act  does  honor  to  the  hearts 
of  these  desperadoes  in  fight,  and  shows  largely  thai 
real  gratitude  of  heart  which  alone  belongs  to  truly-brave 
men. 

Early  in  the  month  of  August,  when  the  main  army 
had  arrived  at  the  place  where  Fort  Defiance  was  built, 
General  Wayne  wishing  to  know  the  intentions  and  situa- 
tion of  the  enemy,  dispatched  Captain  Wells  and  his  com- 
pany to  bring  in  another  prisoner.  The  army  now  lay 
within  forty-five  miles  of  the  British  fort  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Maumee  river,  and  they  would  not  have  to  travel  far 
till  they  would  find  Indians.  As  the  object  was  to  take 
a  prisoner,  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  keep  out  of  the 
way  of  large  parties.  They  went  cautiously  down  the 
Maumee  till  within  two  miles  of  the  British  fort,  where 
stood  an  Indian  village.  All  being  dressed  and  painted 
as  Indians,  they  rode  into  the  village  as  if  they  had  come 
from  the  fort,  occasionally  stopping  and  talking  with  the 
Indians  in  their  own  language.     Na  suspicion  was  excited, 


ttEV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  61 

tne  Indians  believing  they  were  from  a  distance,  and  had 
come  to  take  part  in  the  expected  battle. 

After  they  had  passed  the  village  some  distance,  they 
met  an  Indian  man  and  woman  on  horseback,  who  were 
returning  from  a  hunting  expedition.  This  man  and 
woman  were  made  captives  without  resistance.  They 
then  set  off  for  headquarters.  As  they  were  proceeding 
up  the  Maumee  after  dark,  they  came  near  a  large  en- 
campment of  Indians,  who  were  merrily  amusing  them- 
selves around  their  camp  fires.  Their  prisoners  were 
ordered  to  be  silent  under  pain  of  instant  death.  They 
went  round  their  camp  with  their  prisoners  till  they  got 
half  a  mile  above  them,  where  they  halted  to  consult  on 
their  future  operations.  After  consultation  they  con- 
cluded to  tie  and  gag  their  prisoners,  ride  back  to  the  In- 
dian camp  and  give  them  a  rally,  in  which  each  should 
kill  his  .Indian.  This  they  did — rode  boldly  into  the  In- 
dian camp  and  halted,  with  their  rifles  lying  on  the  pom- 
mel of  their  saddles.  They  inquired  when  they  had  heard 
of  General  Wayne  and  the  movements  of  his  arm)  ?  how 
soon  and  where  the  battle  would  be  fought?  The  Indians 
who  were  standing  around  them  were  very  communica- 
tive, and  without  suspicion.  At  length  an  Indian,  who 
was  sitting  some  distance  from  them,  said  in  an  under- 
tone of  voice,  and  in  another  tongue,  to  some  who  were 
near  him,  that  he  suspected  that  these  strangers  had  some 
mischief  in  their  heads.  Wells  overheard  what  was  said, 
and  gave  the  preconcerted  signal,  and  each  fired  his  rifle 
into  an  Indian  not  six  feet  distant.  At  this  instant  the 
Indians  arose  with  their  rifles  in  their  hands,  and  as  soon 
as  Wells  and  his  party  fired  they  wheeled  and  put  spurs 
to  their  horses,  laying  with  their  breasts  on  the  horses 
necks,  so  as  to  lessen  the  mark  for  the  Indians  to  fire  at. 
They  had  not  got  out  of  sight  of  the  camp  fire  till  the 
Indians  shot  at  them.     As  M'Cleland  lay  close  on  his 


62  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

horse's  neck  he  was  shot,  the  bail  passing  under  his  shoul 
der-blade   and  coming  out   at   the   top  of  his  snouldei 
Captain  Wells   was  shot  through  the  arm  on  which  he 
carried  his  rifle,  and  it  fell.     The  rest  of  the  party  or  their 
horses  received  no  injury. 

There  was  in  this  terrific  encounter  a  display  of  confi 
dence  and  self-possession  almost  unparalleled.     They  had 
escaped  in  so  many  desperate  combats  that  they  seemed 
to  be  entirely  insensible  to  danger.     As  they  had  no  rivals 
in  the  army,  they  aimed  to  outdo  all  their  former  exploits. 

To  ride  into  an  enemy's  camp  and  enter  into  conversa- 
tion with  them,  without  betraying  the  least  appearance  of 
trepidation  or  confusion,  shows  how  well  their  hearts  were 
steeled.  Their  actions  of  real  life  even  rival  the  fictions  of 
the  Grecian  poet.  Homer  sends  forth  his  invincible  hero, 
protected  by  the  invulnerable  panoply  of  Jupiter,  to  make 
a  night  attack  upon  the  enemy.  Diomede  makes  the  suc- 
cessful attack  upon  sleeping  foes.  Not  so  with  our  west- 
ern heroes.  They  boldly  went  into  the  midst  of  the 
enemy  while  their  camp  fires  were  burning  bright  and 
they  were  on  the  watch,  and  openly  commenced  the  work 
of  death.  After  having  performed  this  chivalrous  act, 
they  rode  at  full  speed  to  where  their  prisoners  were  tied, 
mounted  them  on  horses,  and  set  off  for  Fort  Defiance. 

Wells  and  M'Cleland  were  severely  wounded,  and  to 
Fort  Defiance,  a  distance  of  thirty-five  miles,  they  had  to 
ride  before  they  could  rest  or  have  the  aid  of  a  surgeon. 
One  of  the  party  was  dispatched  at  full  speed  for  a  guard 
and  surgeon.  As  soon  as  the  tidings  of  the  wounds  and 
perilous  condition  of  the  spies  reached  the  fort,  without  a 
moment's  delay  a  dispatch  of  the  swiftest  dragoons  and  a 
surgeon  were  off  to  meet  them.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
they  arrived  safely  in  camp,  and  the  wounded  recovered 
in  a  short  time ;  and  as  the  battle  was  fought  and  a  brill- 
iant victory  won  a  few  days  after,  these  brave  and  daring 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  63 

spirits  were  not  engaged  in  further  hostilities.  The  war 
with  the  Indians  was  closed  with  a  lasting  treaty  of  peace 
in  1795. 

It  will  be  natural  for  the  reader  to  wish  to  know  what 
became  of  those  brave  men — of  Thorp,  Hickman,  and  the 
fwo  Millers.  Concerning  these  history  is  silent;  but  like 
many  other  valorous  backwoodsmen,  if  living,  may  reside 
in  some  poor  cabin  in  the  far  west,  unknown  and  unhori- 
ored.  The  brave  Captain  Wells  fell,  during  the  last  war 
with  England,  on  the  15th  of  August,  1812,  near  Fort 
Dearborn,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Chicago  river.  He  was 
slain  in  an  unequal  combat,  where  sixty-four  whites  were 
attacked  by  upward  of  four  hundred  Indians.  He  fell, 
lamented  by  his  whole  country,  and  never  fell  a  bolder  or 
more  intrepid  spirit.  Nothing  more  is  heard  of  the 
intrepid  M'Cleland  till  1812.  This  hardy,  brave,  and  ac- 
tive backwoodsman  had  returned  to  St.  Louis  from  an  ex- 
pedition across  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  had  been  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river. 
Such  a  tour  through  uncultivated,  unpeopled  oceans  of 
prairie,  and  such  labor  through  the  tempestuous  bursts  of 
storm,  sleet,  and  snow  that  whirled  in  almost  continual 
tornadoes  around  the  hights  of  frightful  rocks  which  com- 
pose these  dreary  mountains,  where  winter  eternally  reigns; 
such  a  tour,  I  repeat,  was  equal  to  the  daring  genius  of  a 
man  like  M'Cleland. 

Washington  Irving,  in  his  Astoria,  gives  the  following 
description  of  M'Cleland.  He  says  he  was  a  remarkable 
man.  He  had  been  a  partisan  under  General  Wayne  in 
his  Indian  wars,  where  he  distinguished  himself  by  his 
fiery  spirit  and  reckless  daring,  and  marvelous  stories  were 
told  of  his  exploits.  His  appearance  answered  to  his 
character.  His  frame  was  meager  but  muscular;  show: 
;ng  strength,  activity,  and  iron  firmness.  His  eyes  were 
dark,  deep  set,  and  piercing.     He  was  restless,  fearless, 


64  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

bul#  of  impetuous  and,  cometimes,  ungovernable  temper 
He  was  invited  by  Mr  Hunt,  the  partner  of  Jacob  Astor, 
to  join  the  party  for  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river 
This  he  did,  about  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  up  the 
Missouri  river,  and  for  the  special  purpose  of  taking 
revenge  on  a  party  of  Indians  that  had  robbed  him  and 
his  partner — Crooks — some  time  before.  This  robbery, 
by  the  Sioux,  was  instigated  by  Emanuel  Lisa,  the  lead- 
ing partner  and  agent  of  the  Missouri  Fur  Company. 
This  intelligence  so  roused  the  fiery  temper  of  M'Cleland, 
that  he  swore  if  he  met  with  Lisa  in  the  Indian  country 
he  would  shoot  him  on  the  spot — a  mode  of  redress  per- 
fectly in  unison  with  the  character  of  the  man  and  the 
code  of  honor  prevalent  beyond  the  frontier. 

I  will  close  the  history  of  this  extraordinary  man  by 
giving  one  more  specimen  of  his  character.  In  returning, 
after  sufferings  almost  indescribable,  in  passing  across  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river,  his  fare  was  no  better. 
In  company  with  Mr.  Stewart  and  five  others,  they  were 
robbed  of  all  their  horses  by  the  Blackfeet  Indians,  in  the 
fall  of  1812,  and  had  to  combat  all  the  perils  of  the  jour- 
ney on  foot.  On  a  certain  occasion,  to  avoid  coming  in 
contact  with  the  perfidious  savages,  it  was  thought  safest 
by  all  but  M'Cleland,  to  cross  some  stupendous  mountains 
than  go  round.  At  this  M'Cleland  demurred;  and  not- 
withstanding the  remonstrances  of  his  comrades,  he 
turned  a  deaf  ear  and  left  them,  and  took  his  own  way. 
Some  days  after,  when  they  passed  the  top  of  the  mount- 
ain, they  saw  M'Cleland  at  a  distance  in  advance  travers- 
ing the  plain,  and  whether  he  saw  them  or  not  he  showed 
no  disposition  to  rejoin  them.  On  the  eleventh  night  after 
they  parted,  they  met  with  signs  of  that  wayward  and 
solitary  being,  M'Cleland,  who  was  still  keeping  ahead  of 
them  through  those  solitary  mountains.  He  had  en 
camped,  the  night  before,  on  a  small  stream,  where  they 


KEY.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  65 

t  .tind  the  embers  of  the  fire  by  which  he  slept,  and  the 
icmains  of  a  miserable  wolf  on  which  he  supped.  The 
L.ext  day  at  evening,  almost  starved  to  death  and  with 
no  prospect  of  food,  they  stopped  to  encamp,  when  they 
saw  a  smoke  at  a  distance,  which  they  hailed  with  joy, 
hoping  it  was  some  Indian's  camp,  where  they  might 
obtain  something  to  prevent  them  from  starving.  They 
dispatched  one  of  their  company  to  reconnoiter.  They 
waited  till  a  late  hour  for  his  return.  On  the  next  morn- 
ing they  set  out  early.  They  had  not  traveled  far  till 
they  saw  their  comrade,  whom  they  hastened  to  meet, 
in  hope  he  had  obtained  something  for  them  to  eat;  but 
i'4  this  he  had  none.  The  smoke  had  arisen  from  the  fire 
if  M'Cleland,  which  had  broken  out  while  he  was  trying 
lo  catch  some  small  fish.  When  the  party  reached  the 
place  they  found  the  poor  fellow  lying  on  a  parcel  of  with- 
ered grass,  wasted  to  a  perfect  skeleton,  and  so  feeble  he 
could  scarcely  raise  his  head  to  speak.  The  presence  of 
bis  old  companions  seemed  to  revive  him ;  but  they  had 
no  food  to  give  him,  for  they  were  almost  starved  them- 
selves. They  urged  him  to  arise  and  accompany  them, 
but  he  shook  his  head.  It  was  all  in  vain,  for  there  was 
no  prospect  of  relief,  and  he  might  as  well  die  where  he 
was.  After  much  persuasion  they  got  him  on  his  feet, 
and  while  some  shared  the  burden  of  carrying  his  rifle,  he 
was  cheered  and  urged  forward.  After  one  or  two  days' 
travel  they  succeeded  in  killing  an  old  rundown  buffalo 
bull,  which  preserved  the  whole  party  from  starving. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  party  sustained  themselves 
through  the  winter,  and  the  next  spring  arrived  safely  at 
St.  Louis.  From  this  M'Cleland  returned  to  the  wilder- 
ness, and  there  is  no  certain  account  of  where  or  how  he 
died 

Thus,  reader,  we  have  conducted  you  along  with   the 
history  of  ore  of  those  intrepid  and  fearless  spirits  who 

5 


66  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

were  the  pioneers  of  the  vast  west,  and  he  is  a  good  spec 
iir.en  of  all  the  rest.  It  will  take  many  volumes  to  record 
the  daring  deeds  and  the  indescribable  sufferings  of  those 
who  penetrated  the  vast  wilderness  which  now  has  risen 
to  a  mighty  empire.  Their  dauntless  and  daring  spirits 
have  passed  off  unknown,  unhonored,  and  unregarded;  a 
new  race  has  followed  after,  who  are  now  reveling  in  ali 
the  luxuries  of  the  richest  and  most  fertile  spot  on  the 
globe. 

An  anecdote  is  told  of  one  of  those  adventurous  tiap- 
pers,  who  had  been  trapping  and  trading  for  some  years 
in  the  mountain  passes,  and  came  with  his  furs  to  St. 
Louis.  He  sold  all  his  peltry  and  buffalo-robes,  and  had 
received  three  checks  on  the  bank.  He  went  into  the 
bank  to  draw  his  money.  His  dress  and  appearance  were 
those  of  a  backwoods  trapper,  and  the  bank  room  being 
tilled  with  the  gentry,  they  looked  upon  his  greasy  buck- 
skin hunting-shirt  and  leggins  as  though  they  feared  he 
would  touch  them  and  spoil  or  soil  their  delicate  clothing; 
and  after  looking  all  round  the  room  and  its  inmates,  he 
threw  down  his  first  check;  this  was  cashed.  He  then 
threw  down  his  second,  and  then  his  third.  The  gentle- 
men began  by  this  time  to  look  at  one  another,  and  the 
cashier  said,  "Where  are  you  from,  sir?"  The  trappei 
replied,  "Just  from  the  moon,  sir."  "How  did  you  get 
down,  sir?"  "Why,  I  just  greased  my  hunting-shirt,  sir, 
and  slid  down  on  a  rainbow." 

Here,  gentle  reader,  permit  me  to  record  my  testimony 
with  others,  and  say  to  you  and  to  generations  unborn, 
that  there  never  lived  a  nobler  race  of  men  on  the  green 
earth,  than  those  pioneers  of  the  great  valley  of  the  Mis 
sissippi,  from  Finley  and  Boone  down  to  General  William 
Henry  Harrison,  who  had  the  honor  and  glory  of  closing 
the  long  and  bloody  British  and  Indian  war,  which  had 
lasted  for  more  than  fifty  years ;  and  no  man,  of  any  taste 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  07 

or  genius,  can  read  the  accounts  of  the  settlement  of  this 
vast  wilderness,  and  the  daring  deeds  of  valor  displayed 
by  the  first  adventurers,  without  feeling*  the  highest  de- 
gree of  admiration  at  their  patriotism  and  unflinching  per- 
severance. While  every  young  and  true-hearted  Ameri- 
can will  feel  himself  identified  with  them,  and  have  a  filial 
regard  for  their  memory,  while  he  beholds  them,  like  a 
Boone,  a  Kenton,  a  Finley,  and  a  Stewart,  treading  the 
lonely  desert,  and  braving  the  horrors  of  savage  rage  and 
fury,  amid  the  distress  of  famine  and  war,  he  admires 
their  courage,  and  is  interested  with  the  thrilling  accounts 
and  their  narrow  escapes  from  death,  as  well  as  their  per- 
severance and  toil  in  turning  this  most  delightful  and 
richest  of  all  countries  into  the  fruitful  field  and  smiling 
garden,  and  opening  the  way  for  millions  of  our  race  to 
enjoy  the'  inestimable  blessings  of  religion  and  liberty. 
No  class  of  men  ever  acted  more  nobly,  or  conferred  a 
greater  temporal  blessing  on  posterity ;  nor  did  ever  any 
make  greater  sacrifices ;  danger,  poverty,  and  death  were 
their  constant  companions.  It  is  said  by  a  wise  man,  that 
ingratitude  is  a  sin  of  greater  magnitude  than  witchcraft; 
and  thousands  now  live  at  their  ease,  and  roll  in  their 
wealth,  who  can  not  feel  toward  those  brave  men  as  I  do. 
They  stood,  with  gun  and  tomahawk  in  hand,  between 
our  mothers  and  their  children  and  the  incensed  and  re- 
vengeful rage  of  the  red  man.  They  were  our  guardians 
from  savage  barbarity;  their  names  were  precious  then, 
and  still  are  to  those  for  whom  they  ventured  their  lives 
and  their  all.  In  those  days  of  blood  and  carnage  all 
were  warriors.  Our  mothers,  like  the  women  of  Amazonia, 
were  trained  to  war,  and  could  handle  the  rifle  with  great 
dexterity,  and  the  children  were  trained  up  to  be  soldiers 
from  childhood.  A  boy  ten  years  old  was  counted  able 
to  carry  arms,  and  fight;  and  at  sixteen  would  enter  the 
regular  service.     One  of  this  age  was  enlisted  as  a  soldier 


00  AUTOBJOGRAPHY    OF 

in  the  last  war;  his  captain  asked  him,  ''John,  can  you 
ride  and  carry  a  gun?"  "I  can  try,  sir."  "Can  you 
shoot,  John?"  "I  can  try,  sir."  "Can  you  fight  Indi- 
ans, John?"  "I  can  try,  sir,"  said  the  lad.  At  one 
time,  when  on  a  scouting  party  with  his  captain,  they 
were  chased  by  a  body  of  Indians,  and  crossing  a  prairie 
one  pressed  them  hard.  The  captain  said,  "John,  can 
you  light  olF  when  we  get  to  those  woods  and  shoot  that 
Indian?"  He  sprang  from  his  horse,  drew  his  rifle  to  his 
face,  and  fired ;  down  fell  the  Indian.  After  they  arrived 
ai  camp  the  captain  called  him  up  and  said,  "John,  when 

1  enlisted  you,  I  was  afraid  that  you  would  not  stand  fire, 
but  would  run."  John  said,  "I  am  not  one  of  that  breed, 
sir'' 


KEV.    JAMES     B.    FINLEY.  b'U 


CHAPTER  III. 

LIFE     IN     THE     BACKWOODS. 

The  first  settlers  could  not  have  sustained  themselves, 
n ad  it  not  been  for  the  wild  game  that  was  in  the  country. 
This  was  their  principal  subsistence;  and  this  they  took 
at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  and  often  many  of  them  came 
near  starving  to  death.  Wild  meat,  without  bread  or 
salt,  was  often  their  food  for  weeks  together.  If  they 
obtained  bread,  the  meal  was  pounded  in  a  mortar,  or 
ground  on  a  hand-mill.  Hominy  was  a  good  substitute 
for  bread,  or  parched  corn  pounded  and  sifted,  then 
mixed  with  a  little  sugar  and  eaten  dry;  or  mixed  with 
water  was  a  good  beverage!  On  this  coarse  fare  the  peo- 
ple were  remarkably  healthy  and  cheerful.  No  com- 
plaints were  heard  of  dyspepsia:  I  never  heard  of  this 
fashionable  complaint  till  I  was  more  than  thirty  years 
old ;  and  if  the  emigrants  had  come  to  these  backwoods 
with  dyspepsia,  they  would  not  have  been  troubled  long 
with  it;  for  a  few  months'  living  on  buffalo,  venison,  and 
good,  fat  bear-meat,  with  the  oil  of  the  raccoon  and  opos- 
sum mixed  up  with  plenty  of  hominy,  would  soon  have 
effected  a  cure. 

Their  children  were  fat  and  hearty,  not  having  been 
fed  with  plum-pudding,  sweetmeats,  and  pound-cake.  A 
more  hardy  race  of  men  and  women  grew  up  in  this  wil- 
derness than  has  ever  been  produced  since;  with  moie 
common  sense  and  enterprise  than  is  common  to  those 
who  sleep  on  beds  of  down,  and  feast  on  jellies  and  pre- 
serves ;  and  although  they  had  not  the  same  advantages 


70  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    0* 

of  obtaining  learning  that  the  present  generation  have, 
yet  they  had  this  advantage — they  were  sooner  thrown 
upon  the  world,  became  acquainted  with  men  and  things, 
and  entirely  dependent  on  their  own  resources  for  a  living. 
A  boy  at  the  age  of  sixteen  was  counted  a  man  in  labor 
and  hunting,  and  was  ready  to  go  to  war;  and  now,  one 
of  that  age  hardly  knows  the  road  to  mill  or  market. 

Their  attire  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  their  fare. 
The  men's  apparel  was  mostly  made  of  the  deer's  skin. 
This,  well  dressed,  was  made  into  hunting-shirts,  oanta- 
loons,  coats,  waistcoats,  leggins,  and  moccasins.  The 
women  sometimes  wore  petticoats  made  of  this  most  com- 
mon and  useful  article ;  and  it  supplied,  almost  univers- 
ally, the  place  of  shoes  and  boots.  If  a  man  was  blessed 
with  a  linsey  hunting-shirt,  and  the  ladies  with  linsey 
dresses,  and  the  children  with  the  same,  it  was  counted 
of  the  first  order,  even  if  the  linsey  was  made  of  the  wool 
of  the  buflalo.  On  some  occasions,  the  men  could  pur- 
chase a  calico  shirt;  this  was  thought  to  be  extra;  for 
which  they  paid  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  or  two  dollars 
in  skins  or  furs.  And  if  a  woman  had  one  calico  dress  to 
go  abroad  in,  she  was  considered  a  finely-dressed  lady. 
Deer's  hair  or  oak  leaves  was  generally  put  into  the  moc- 
casin, and  worn  in  place  of  stockings  or  socks.  The 
household  furniture  consisted  of  stools,  and  bedsteads 
made  with  forks  driven  into  the  ground  and  poles  laid  on 
these,  with  the  bark  of  the  trees,  and  on  this  beds  made 
of  oak  leaves,  or  cattail  stripped  off  and  dried  in  the  sun. 
They  rocked  their  children  in  a  sugar  trough  or  pack-sad- 
dle. The  cooking  utensils  consisted  of  a  pot,  Dutch  oven, 
skillet,  frying  pan,  wooden  trays  and  trenchers,  and  boards 
made  smooth  and  clean.  The  table  was  made  of  a  broad 
slab.  And  with  these  fixtures,  there  never  was  a  heartier, 
happier,  more  hospitable  or  cheerful  people.  Their  inter- 
ests were  one,  and   their  dependence  on  each  other  was 


EEV.    JAMfJS    B.    FINLET.  71 

?.! dispensable,  and  all  things  were  common.  Thus  united, 
they  lived  as  one  family.  They  generally  married  early 
in  life — the  men  from  eighteen  to  twenty-one,  and  the 
girls  from  sixteen  to  twenty.  The  difficulties  of  com- 
mencing the  world  were  not  so  great;  and,  as  both  parties 
were  contented  to  begin  with  nothing,  there  was  no  look- 
ing out  for  fortunes,  or  the  expectation  of  living  without 
labor.  Their  affections  were  personal  and  sincere,  which 
constituted  a  chief  part  of  their  domestic  happiness,  and 
endeared  them  to  home.  The  sparkling  log-fire  in  the  back- 
woods cabin,  the  gambols  of  half  a  dozen  cheerful,  healthy 
children,  and  the  smiles  of  the  happy  wife  and  mother, 
made  an  earthly  paradise.  Nothing  could  excite  more 
Hilarity  than  a  backwoods  wedding.  Most  generally,  all 
the  neighborhood,  for  miles  around,  were  invited ;  and  if 
it  was  in  the  winter,  there  would  be  a  log-heap  or  twc 
somewhere  near  the  cabin.  Around  these  fires  the  men 
assembled  with  their  rifles ;  the  women  in  the  cabin ;  and 
if  there  was  a  fiddler  in  the  neighborhood,  he  must  be 
present  at  an  hour  stated.  The  parson,  if  one  could  be 
had,  if  not,  the  Justice  of  the  Peace,  called  the  assembly 
together,  then  the  couple  to  be  married.  After  the  cere- 
mony was  over,  and  all  had  wished  the  happy  pair  much 
joy,  then,  if  it  could  be  had,  the  bottle  passed  round ;  the 
men  then  went  some  to  shooting  at  a  mark,  some  to 
throwing  the  tomahawk,  others  to  hopping  and  jumping, 
throwing  the  rail  or  shoulder-stone,  others  to  running  foot- 
races; the  women  were  employed  in  cooking.  When  din- 
ner was  ready,  the  guests  all  partook  of  the  very  best 
venison,  bear-meat,  roast  turkeys,  etc.  This  being  over, 
the  dance  commences,  and,  if  there  is  no  room  in  tht* 
cabin,  the  company  repair  to  or  near  one  of  the  log-fires: 
there  they  dance  till  night,  and  then  they  mostly  return 
home ;  yet  many  of  the  young  people  stay,  and  perhaps 
Irince  all  night  on  a  rough  puncheon  floor,  till  the  inoc- 


72  AUTOBioGRAlUr     OF 

cas.ns  are  worn  through.  The  next  day  is  the  infair:  the 
same  scenes  are  again  enacted,  when  the  newly-married 
Dair  single  off  to  a  cabin  built  for  themselves,  without 
iwenty  dollars'  worth  of  property  to  begin  the  world  with, 
♦md  live  more  happily  than  those  who  roll  in  wealth  and 
lortune. 

I  recollect,  when  a  boy,  to  have  seen  a  pair  of  those 
backwoods  folks  come  to  my  father's  to  get  married. 
The  groom  and  bride  had  a  bell  on  each  of  their  horses' 
necks,  and  a  horse-collar  made  of  corn-husks  on  each 
horse,  to  pay  the  marriage  fee.  The  groomsman  had  a 
bottle  of  whisky  in  his  hunting-shirt  bosom.  When  they 
had  entered  the  house,  the  groom  asked  if  the  parson  was 
at  home.  My  father  replied  that  he  was  the  parson. 
Then  said  the  groom,  "May  it  please  you,  Mary  M'Lain 
and  I  have  come  to  get  married.  Will  you  do  it  for  us?" 
"Yes,"  replied  my  father.  "Well,  then,"  said  the  groom, 
"we  are  in  a  hurry."  So  the  knot  was  tied,  and  the 
groomsman  pulled  out  his  bottle  of  whisky  to  treat  the 
company.  He  then  went  out,  and  took  the  collars  off 
the  horses  of  the  bride  and  groom,  and  brought  them 
in  as  the  marriage  fee;  and  soon  after  they  started  for 
home,  in  Indian  file,  with  the  bells  on  their  horses  open, 
to  keep  the  younger  colts  which  had  followed  them 
together. 

The  manner  in  which  the  cabins  were  built,  I  have  de- 
scribed elsewhere.  The  chimneys  were  built  on  the  inside 
of  the  house,  by  throwing  on  an  extra  log,  three  feet  and 
a  half  from  the  wall,  on  which  to  build  the  chimney , 
from  this  it  was  carried  up  with  sticks  and  clay,  to  the 
roof  of  the  house,  and  some  two  feet  above  it.  The  whole 
width  of  the  house  was  occupied  for  a  fireplace,  and 
wood  ten  or  twelve  feet  long  could  be  laid  on ;  when 
burned  in  two  in  the  middle,  the  ends  could  be  pushed 
up,   so   as  to  keep  a  good   fire  through   a   long  winter's 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  7$ 

night.  When  there  was  but  one  bed  in  the  cabin,  it  was 
no  sign  that  you  would  not  have  a  good  night's  rest; 
for,  after  supper  was  over,  and  the  feats  of  the  day  about 
hunting  were  all  talked  over,  the  skins  were  brought 
forth — bear,  buffalo,  or  deer — and  spread  down  before  a 
sparkling  fire,  and  a  blanket  or  buffalo  robe  to  cover  with ; 
and  you  could  sleep  sweetly  as  the  visions  of  the  night 
roll  over  the  senses,  till  the  morning  dawn  announced  the 
approach  of  day.  There  were  no  windows,  and  but  one 
opening  for  a  door;  this  was  generally  narrow,  and  the 
shutter  made  of  two  slabs,  or  a  tree  split  in  two,  then 
hewed  off  to  the  thickness  say  of  six  or  eight  inches,  then 
set  up  endwise,  and  made  with  a  bevel  to  lap  over. 
The  fastenings  consisted  of  three  large  bars,  fastened  to 
staples  in  the  walls.  The  floor,  if  not  of  the  earth,  was 
of  hewn  slabs,  and  covered  with  clapboards.  These  cab- 
ins, if  there  was  some  care  taken  in  putting  down  the  logs 
close  together,  and  they  were  scutched  down,  would  make 
the  sweetest  and  healthiest  habitations  that  man  can  live 
in.  They  are  much  healthier  than  either  stone  or  brick 
houses ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  there  is  a  greater 
amount  of  health  and  happiness  enjoyed  by  the  inmates 
of  the  former  than  the  latter. 

All  the  mills  that  the  early  settlers  had,  was  the  hom- 
iny block  or  a  hand-mill.  The  water-mills  or  horse-mills 
were  so  far  off,  that  it  was  like  going  on  a  pilgrimage 
to  get  a  grist;  and  besides  the  toll  was  so  enormously 
high — one  half  being  required  for  grinding  the  other 
half — that  they  preferred  doing  their  own  milling. 

Almost  every  man  and  boy  were  hunters,  and  some  of 
the  women  of  those  times  were  expert  in  the  chase.  The 
game  which  was  considered  the  most  profitable  and  useful 
was  the  buffalo,  the  elk,  the  bear,  and  the  deer.  The 
smalier  game  consisted  of  raccoon,  turkey,  opossum,  and 
ground-hog.     The  panther  was  sometimes  used  for  food. 


74  AUTOBIOGR  APHT    OF 

and  considered  by  some  us  good.  The  flesh  of  the  wolf 
and  wild-cat  was  only  used  when  nothing  else  could  be 
obtained. 

The  buffalo  is  of  the  kine  species,  with  a  large  hump  on 
its  shoulders,  generally  of  a  dun  color,  with  short,  thick 
horns.  The  male  buffalo  is  distinguished  from  the  female 
by  having  a  short  mane.  They  go  usually  in  large  droves 
or  herds,  feeding  on  cane  in  the  winter.  They  frequent 
salt-licks ;  and  in  going  to  and  from  these  places  they  beat 
large  roads. 

Buffaloes  were  abundant  in  Kentucky,  and  were  used  by 
the  first  settlers  as  their  most  common  food.  They  have 
a  very  shaggy  or  woolly  skin.  The  wool  was  often  spun 
and  woven  into  cloth  by  the  women ;  and  sometimes  it 
was  mixed  with  raccoon  fur  and  knit  into  stockings,  which 
were  very  warm  and  serviceable.  The  fashionable  clothes 
cut  out  of  the  finest  French  and  English  broadcloths,  and 
made  in  such  a  style  as  to  provoke  the  idea  that  they 
were  designed  to  invite  instead  of  protect  us  from  the 
chilling  blasts  of  winter,  would  bear  no  comparison  with 
the  warm  and  comfortable  clothing  which  was  worn  at 
that  day. 

After  the  wool  was  taken  off,  the  hide  answered  a  vain 
able  purpose.  Being  cut  into  strips  and  twisted,  it  made 
strong  tugs,  which  were  used  for  plowing.  It  was  also 
made  into  plow -lines,  bed-cords,  etc.  When  dressed  it 
was  made  into  shoe-packs,  or  a  kind  of  half  shoe  and  half 
moccasin.  The  way  of  hunting  the  buffalo  was  in  the 
following  manner:  A  Company  was  formed,  well  supplied 
with  dogs  and  guns.  Being  mounted  on  horses,  they 
started  for  the  woods.  When  a  herd  was  found,  one  of 
the  company  would  creep  up  softly  and  fire  into  theii 
midst ;  then  the  whole  company  would  rush  in  upon  them 
with  their  dogs,  which  would  throw  them  into  confusion, 
After  all  had  discharged  their  pieces  the  dogs  would  attach 


' 


R  K  V  .     JAMES     B  .     F I  N  L  E  Y  .  71> 

them;  and  while  they  were  engaged  in  fighting  with  the 
clogs,  the  hunters  would  have  time  to  reload  and  pursue 
the  chase.  After  the  conflict  was  over  they  would  return 
and  collect  the  spoil.  To  enable  the  horses  to  carry  them, 
they  would  take  out  the  entrails  and  split  them  in  two, 
and  then  throw  them  over  the  pack-saddles  and  carry 
them  home. 

The  elk  is  of  the  deer  or  moose  species.  It  resembles 
the  deer  very  much  in  form,  but  it  is  much  larger.  It 
has  large  branching  horns,  which  sometimes  erow  to  an 
enormous  size.  To  look  at  the  forest  of  horns  which  they 
carry  on  their  heads,  one  would  think  it  impossible  for  them 
ever  to  make  their  way  through  the  woods.  1  have  seen 
these  antlers  so  large,  that  when  set  up  on  their  points  a 
man  six  feet  high  could  pass  under  them  without  stooping-. 
The  flesh  of  the  elk  is  coarse  and  dark,  like  that  of  the 
buffalo,  but  has  a  good  taste ;  is  nutritious  and  easily 
digested.  This  animal,  like  the  buffalo,  is  gregarious  m 
its  habits.  They  go  in  large  droves,  and  can  be  easily 
taken  if  the  leader  is  first  killed  by  the  hunter.  The 
leader  is,  generally,  some  old  doe.  If  the  hunter  is  suc- 
cessful in  finding  her  out  and  shooting  her,  the  whole 
drove  is  thrown  into  confusion  and  easily  captured ;  but 
if  he  be  mistaken,  on  the  first  alarm  they  bound  away 
with  the  velocity  almost  of  lightning,  and  run  three  or 
four  miles  in  a  straight  line  without  stopping.  They  are 
very  sagacious.  If  an  old  buck  is  wounded  he  will  fight 
most  desperately,  and  woe  betide  the  man  who  comes 
within  the  swing  of  his  horns.  The  skin  of  the  elk  serves 
many  useful  and  valuable  purposes. 

The  bear  seems  to  be  sui  generis,  bearing  no  particular 
resemblance  to  any  other  animal  in  this  country.  They 
are  generally  black,  and  when  fat  their  skins  are  well  cov- 
ered with  a  loose  fur.  The  flesh  of  the  bear  is  the  most 
delicious,   as  well   as   the  most  nutritious,   of   any  food. 


80  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

When  they  are  fattened  on  beech-nuts,  the  oil  of  this  am 
mil  is  the  most  penetrating  of  any  in  the  world.  The 
bear  seems  to  be  an  awkward,  clumsy,  inactive  animal ; 
but  this  is  far  from  being  the  case,  as  any  one  has  reason 
to  know  who  has  been  chased  by  them.  They  can  climb 
the  highest  trees  with  great  facility.  When  lean  they  can 
run  with  great  rapidity  and  tight  with  tremendous  fury, 
especially  when  wounded  or  bereaved  of  their  cubs. 
They  will  become  immensely  fat  on  good  mast,  so  much 
so  that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  for  them  to  move  very, 
quickly.  When  rendered  thus  unwieldy,  they  will,  by  a 
peculiar  instinct,  seek  some  cave  in  a  rock  "or  hollow  tree. 
where  they  will  hibernate;  and  about  the  latter  part  of 
March,  waking  from  their  winter's  sleep,  they  will  come 
forth  to  greet  the  opening  spring. 

Should  they  wake  at  any  time  during  the  winter,  they 
will  not  leave  their  place,  but  suck  their  fore-paws  till  they 
fall  asleep  again.  After  dissection,  the  alimentary  canai 
has  been  found  to  contain  from  one  to  two  gallons  of  oil. 
This  oil  is  pure  and  unmixed.  Various  conjectures  have 
been  given  to  account  for  the  existence  of  this  oil ;  but  the 
most  plausible  is,  that  it  is  taken  up  by  the  absorbent  ves- 
sels and  thrown  into  the  canal  for  the  purpose  of  supply- 
ing the  wants  of  nature  in  the  absence  of  food.  If  they 
have  young  ones  they  will  remain  longer  in  and  about 
their  winter  quarters.  When  they  come  out  they  seek  for 
some  green  vegetables,  especially  for  the  nettle-weed, 
which  they  take  as  a  medicine  for  its  purgative  properties. 
She  bears  have  from  one  to  three  cubs.  At  tirst  they  are 
quite  small,  not  much  larger  than  a  kitten.  They  arc 
destitute  of  hair,  and  blind  till  about  the  tenth  day.  Of 
all  the  young  animals  I  have  ever  seen  they  are  the  mosi 
uncomely.  Notwithstanding  their  ungainly  appearance, 
the  mother  is  tenderly  attached  to  her  cubs,  and  will  pro 
tect  them  to  the  last. 


REV.     JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  81 

Bears  seldom  go  in  droves  or  herds,  except  in  the  month 
of  August,  at  which  time  they  are  considered  by  the  hun- 
ters as  the  most  ravenous.  The  cubs  usually  stay  with 
their  dams  about  a  year,  when  they  start  out  to  seek  a 
living  for  themselves.  These  animals  display  a  wonder- 
ful instinct.  They  seem  not  only  to  be  competent  judges 
of  the  best  kind  of  mast,  but  they  know  exactly  where  tc 
find  it.  They  will  go  as  directly  from  one  part  of  the 
country  to  the  other,  in  quest  of  food,  as  though  they  un- 
derstood thoroughly  its  geography.  They  act  with  won- 
derful concert;  and  if  one  bear  finds  a  place  where  mast 
is  good  and  plenty,  all  in  the  woods  will  be  apprised 
of  it  in  some  way  or  other.  They  all  seem  to  start  at 
once,  and  no  two  of  them  together;  but  they  all  take  the 
same  course  and  arrive  at  the  same  place.  They  prefer 
the  beech-nut  to  any  other  food ;  next  to  this  the  chest- 
nut and  chestnut  oak;  then  the  acorn.  If  all  these  nuts 
happen  to  be  plentiful  in  one  year,  the  hunter  knows  pre- 
cisely where  to  go  to  find  the  game,  as  all  kind  of  game 
prefer  the  beech-nut.  Should  there  be  no  beech  mast, 
then  he  must  go  to  the  chestnut,  and  if  these  fail,  to  the 
white  and  black  oak  woods.  These  things  form  part  of 
the  hunter's  study. 

These  animals  become  very  poor  in  the  summer  and 
live  on  lesser  animals,  if  they  can  take  them,  or  upon  the 
wild  honey  which  they  take  from  the  yellow-jacket  or 
bumblebee.  They  will  turn  over  large  logs  in  quest  of 
this  food.  The  sting  of  the  bees  does  not  deter  them, 
especially  if  hungry.  They  will  get  all  the  honey,  and 
then  hasten  to  a  bear- wallow  or  a  branch  of  water,  and 
throwing  themselves  into  the  same,  will  thus  get  rid  of 
their  assailants.  At  this  season  of  the  year  they  attack 
the  swine,  and  have  been  known  to  carry  off  large  hogs. 
Sometimes  they  are  defeated  when  they  get  into  a  drove 
of  hogs.     Instead  of  running  they  will  attack  them,  and 

6 


82  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

frequently  bruin  has  to  run  for  a  tree  to  save  his  life 
Once  my  comrade  in  the  woods  heard  a  wonderful  noise 
among  a  gang  of  hogs,  and  they  came  running  from  al. 
quarters,  attracted  by  the  grunting  and  squealing.  He 
crept  up  softly  to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  all  this  com- 
motion, and  found  that  they  had  treed  a  bear,  who  had 
stolen  a  pig  from  the  gang.  He  shot  at  the  bear  and 
wounded  him.  Bruin,  letting  20  all  holds,  fell  to  the 
ground,  whereupon  a  hot  contest  ensued,  in  which  the 
swine  were  victorious,  tearing  their  enemy  to  pieces  with- 
out mercy.  They  were  also  very  troublesome  in  our  corn- 
fields about  roasting-ear  time — entering  them  in  the  night 
and  destroying  the  corn.  They  sometimes  attacked  per- 
sons and  killed  them.  The  hunter,  or  backwoodsman,  for 
all  backwoodsmen  were  hunters,  made  his  summer  bacon 
out  of  bear-meat.  He  would  take  out  the  fat  and  salt  it — 
if  he  had  salt — and  then  hang  it  up  to  smoke.  The  fat  was 
rendered  into  oil,  which  was  put  away  in  deer  skins,  neatly 
and  cleanly  dressed,  for  the  purpose.  This  oil  served 
many  valuable  purposes  to  the  hunter,  supplying  the  place 
of  butter  and  hog's  lard.  He  could  fry  his  venison  and 
turkey  in  it;  and  if  he  had  neither  of  these,  it  was  admi- 
rable sop  for  his  corn-dodger;  and  when  mixed  with  his 
jerk  and  parched  corn,  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  great- 
est delicacies  of  a  hunter's  larder. 

The  bear  is  hunted  with  dogs,  and  if  they  are  well 
trained  but  few  will  escape.  They  are  remarkably  afraid 
of  the  dogs ;  and  as  they  will  attack  them  no  where  else 
than  at  their  hind  legs,  which  are  very  tender,  thev  tree 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  generally  remain  till  the  hunter 
can  come  up  and  shoot  them.  Sometimes,  however,  they 
will  let  go  and  fall  fifty  or  sixty  feet  without  doing  them- 
selves the  slightest  injury.  Often,  when  fat,  they  go  to  a 
hole  in  a  tree  and  must,  be  sought  for.  A  well-trained 
hunter  can  tell  by  the  marks  of  the  claws  in  the  bark  of 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  83 

the  tree,  whether  the  bear  is  holed  or  not.  A  tree  or  sap- 
ling is  fallen  and  lodged  against  the  one  in  which  is  the 
bear.  If  a  tree  should  be  near,  the  hunter  takes  a  long, 
slim  pole,  attaches  some  spunk  or  rotten  wood  to  it,  climbs 
up  as  far  as  the  hole,  and,  igniting  the  end,  sets  fire  to 
the  hole,  which  is  filled  with  rotten  wood.  He  then  de- 
scends and  gets  his  gun,  and  awaits  the  appearance  of 
bruin,  who,  being  unable  to  stand  the  fire,  rushes  out  in 
great  rage  and  meets  his  fate. 

If  he  has  made  his  den  in  the  rocks,  greater  caution  is 
necessary ;  for  if  he  should  only  be  wounded,  the  hunter 
must  be  prepared  for  a  swift  retreat  or  a  single  combat 
with  spear  or  tomahawk.  These  animals,  in  the  fall,  be- 
fore the  time  of  mast,  climb  up  trees,  pull  in  the  limbs, 
and  gather  the  fruit,  which  is  called  lopping.  Often  the 
hunter  steals  up  and  kills  them;  but  if  they  should  hap- 
pen to  see  him  before  he  fires  they  let  all  go  and  fall 
down. 

Some  fifty-six  years  ago,  one  of  the  first  emigrants  to 
Kentucky  went  out  to  cut  a  broomstick  and  saw  a  bear 
lopping.  He  concluded  he  could  kill  it  with  his  ax,  and 
crawling  up  noiselessly  to  the  root  of  the  tree,  he  no 
sooner  arrived  there  than  down  came  bruin  at  his  feet. 
Mr.  M.  immediately  made  a  blow  with  his  ax,  but  it  was 
dexterously  warded  off  by  the  bear  and  wrested  out  of 
his  hands.  The  bear  then  seized  him  by  the  left  arm  and 
disabled  it.  It  then  made  an  effort  to  seize  him  by  the 
face,  but  the  intrepid  hunter  caught  the  nose  of  the  bear 
in  his  teeth  and  held  him  fast.  In  the  strusra'le  he  was 
thrown  down,  but  not  disheartened ;  he  thrust  his  thumb 
into  the  eyes  of  the  bear  and  gouged  them  both  out  of 
their  sockets.  Bruin  screamed  most  piteously,  and  soon 
help  came,  when  it  was  killed  and  the  hunter  relieved 
from  his  perilous  position.  Some  years  after,  some  of 
Mr.   M.'s   friends   coming   out   to   the   west    asked    him, 


34  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

"How  do  you  and  the  bears  make  it?"  His  reply  was, 
"They  can't  stand  Kentucky  play.  Biting  and  gouging 
are  too  hard  for  them." 

The  deer  is  the  most  beautiful  wild  animal  that  roams 
in  American  forests.  They  change  their  color  three  times 
a  year,  and  every  winter  they  cast  their  horns.  The  color 
they  assume  in  the  spring  is  red,  in  the  fall  it  is  blue,  and 
in  the  winter  it  is  gray.  Their  skins  are  the  most  valua- 
ble when  in  the  red  or  blue.  In  the  gray  they  are  worth 
but  little.  The  meat  of  this  animal  is  the  sweetest  and 
most  easily  digested  of  all  animal  food.  Who  does  not 
like  venison?  Besides,  they  are  decidedly  the  cleanest  of 
all  animals,  living  entirely  upon  vegetables.  No  vegeta- 
ble poison  affects  them,  and  they  live  all  winter  upon  lau- 
rel. There  is  something  exceedingly  strange  in  their  ani- 
mal economy.  They  have  no  gall,  and,  therefore,  do  not 
need  this  agent  to  digest  their  food.  They  herd  more  in 
the  winter  than  in  summer.  The  does  have  seldom  more 
than  two  fawns,  whose  skins  are  covered  with  white  and 
red  spots.  They  are  careful  to  keep  from  their  enemies, 
which  are  many,  and  among  which  man  is  not  the  least. 
The  fawns  have  no  scent  by  which  they  can  be  tracked  by 
the  wolf  or  the  dog;  and  as  the  dam  leaves  them  when 
very  young,  this  constitutes  a  great  preservative.  When 
they  are  hungry  they  bleat  like  a  lamb,  and  the  low  wail 
falling  upon  the  keen  and  sensitive  ear  of  the  mother,  she 
hastens  to  supply  her  young  with  food,  which  being  ac- 
complished she  leaves  them  again. 

About  June  they  begin  to  follow  the  doe,  and  soon  learn 
to  run  from  their  pursuers.  The  dam  is  often  decoyed 
and  shot  by  the  crafty  hunter,  whose  fawn-like  bleating 
brings  her  immediately  into  his  presence.  The  death- 
de-aling  ball  pierces  the  mother's  heart,  and  the  fawn  is 
left  to  perish  without  her  care.  In  giving  this  sound  of 
distress,  it  often  happens  that  other  animals  seeking  prey 


REV.     JAMES     B.     FINLEY.  87 

are  attracted  by  it,  and,  coming  together,  a  terrible  con- 
flict ensues.  The  hungry  panther  and  bear,  or  the  bear 
and  wolf,  meet  in  deadly  conflict,  and  one  or  the  other 
Jails  a  prey  to  the  hunter  who  witnesses  the  scene. 

Once,  in  company  with  my  comrade,  we  were  traveling 
in  the  woods,  and  having  a  load  of  meat  on  our  backs  we 
sat  down  to  rest  ourselves.  While  we  were  resting,  I  said 
to  my  companion,  "John,  these  logs — having  been  newly 
turned  over — look  as  though  a  bear  might  be  in  the  vicin- 
ity. Suppose  I  bleat  him  up."  "Do,"  said  he.  I  then 
made  a  noise  like  a  fawn  in  distress,  and  soon  we  heard 
she  brush  cracking.  "Here  he  comes,"  said  I,  and,  sure 
enough,  old  bruin  made  his  appearance.  Coming  within 
two  rods  of  where  we  were  standing,  he  rose  upon  his 
hind  feet,  and  placing  his  fore  feet  on  a  log  looked  all 
around  for  his  prey.  A  ball  from  one  of  our  rifles  soon 
dispatched  him. 

I  have  often  brought  wolves  within  gunshot  in  like 
manner. 

But  we  are  not  done  with  the  history  of  the  deer.  The 
skin  was  manufactured  into  almost  all  kinds  of  clothing, 
such  as  hunting-shirts,  waistcoats,  pantaloons,  leggins, 
petticoats,  moccasins,  sieves,  wallets,  and,  sometimes, 
shirts.  It  was  perhaps  to  the  backwoods  families  the  most 
useful  of  all  animals.  The  dressing  of  deer  skins  did  not 
require  a  long  process.  As  soon  as  the  skin  was  off  the 
deer's  back,  while  yet  warm  and  green,  was  the  best  time 
to  begin  the  graining  process,  which  was  as  follows :  The 
brains  of  the  animal  were  dried  on  a  board  before  the  fire, 
then  they  were  put  into  a  cloth  and  washed  out  in  warm 
water,  which  made  a  kind  of  suds,  into  which  the  skin 
was  put,,  and  after  being  well  rubbed  was  taken  out  and 
wrung  as  dry  as  possible.  Then  it  was  pulled  and  worked 
over  a  board,  made  for  the  purpose,  till  it  was  dry.  It 
was  then  taken  again  through  the  same  process,  with  tho 


8S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     Of 

exception  that  the  bram  water  was  stronger,  and  worked 
till  it  became  soft,  when  it  was  hung  up  and  smoked  with 
rotten  hickory  wood  for  a  short  time,  and  was  then  ready 
for  use.  The  ladies  had  but  little  time  to  devote  to  mak- 
ing clothes  for  the  gentlemen,  and  but  little  was  required, 
as  the  fashions  were  then  as  simple  as  the  material  out  of 
which  the  clothes  were  made.  They  generally  cut  out 
the  garment  with  a  butcher-knife  and  used  an  awl  in  the 
place  of  a  needle,  and  the  sinews  of  the  deer  instead  of 
thread.  With  this  article  the  moccasins  are  always  made 
when  they  are  made  neatly,  though  sometimes  they  were 
made  with  a  whang  cut  from  the  skin.  A  hunting-shirt 
made  of  this  article  will  wear  a  lon^  time.  The  huntino- 
shirt  is  a  very  comfortable  garment  in  cold  weather,  and 
when  worn  awhile  and  well  saturated  with  deer's  tallow 
•or  bear's  oil,  will  turn  the  rain  like  a  goose's  back ;  and  for 
the  brush  and  green-brier  there  is  nothing  so  good. 

The  deer  is  taken  by  what  is  called  still-hunting.  Great 
skill  is  necessary  in  being  able  to  find  out  and  accommo- 
date one's  self  to  the  habits  of  this  animal.  A  skillful 
hunter  can  generally  tell  by  the  weather  and  the  direction 
of  the  wind,  where  to  go  to  find  deer.  As  they  are  very 
watchful,  it  takes  a  noiseless  step  and  a  good  look-out  to 
steal  a  march  upon  them.  As  they  often  go  to  licks, 
hunters  make  blinds  near  by  in  which  they  conceal  them- 
selves. A  great  many  are  killed  at  night,  being  decoyed 
by  the  light  of  a  fire.  For  this  purpose  a  fire  is  built  in 
the  bow  of  a  canoe,  which  is  left  to  float  down  the  stream. 
The  hunter  can  steer  it  directly  toward  them.  The  dee) 
on  the  shore,  becoming  fascinated  by  the  light,  will  gaze 
upon  it  till  the  canoe  comes  directly  against  them.  This 
is  generally  considered  an  unfair  way  of  hunting,  and  it  is 
not  used  by  the  regular  hunter. 

The  panther,  though  much  dreaded,  is  a  fearful  animal, 
und  unless  wounded  will  run  at  the  first  appearance  of 


fiEV.     JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  93 

man  or  dog,  and  will  tree  as  quick  as  a  cat.  When  sud 
denly  surprised,  however,  it  is  dangerous.  It  is  carnivo* 
rous,  and  makes  prey  of  the  lesser  animals  of  the  forest 
When  hungry  it  is  exceedingly  ferocious  and  ravenous, 
and  will  attack  a  man.  Their  proper  mode  of  attack  is 
made  by  leaping  from  a  tree  upon  their  victim.  They 
select  a  tree  near  to  a  deer-lick  or  path,  and  watch  till 
they  see  the  prey.  When  sufficiently  near,  with  fearful 
precision  they  spring  from  their  hiding-place  upon  the 
back  of  their  victim,  and  fastening  their  long  claws  and 
teeth  in  the  body,  they  hold  them  till  they  are  exhausted 
with  pain  and  fatigue  and  yield  to  death.  They  watch 
their  prey,  and  will  fight  for  it  to  the  last.  Their  flesh  is 
good  to  eat,  and  their  skins,  when  well  tanned,  make  good 
razor-strops  and  tolerably  good  shoes. 

The  wolf  is  the  most  sneaking  and  thievish  of  all  ani- 
mals,  and  of  the  least  use.  He  is  seldom  seen  in  the  day- 
time, but  prowls  about  and  howls  all  night.  He  lives  a 
prey  on  the  world,  is  remarkably  cowardly,  and  will  never 
attack  unless  he  has  greatly  the  advantage,  or  is  forced  to 
fight.  The  wolf,  like  all  useless  animals  and  obnoxious 
things,  is  very  prolific,  and  were  it  not  for  their  almost 
constant  state  of  starvation,  would  soon  fill  the  world. 
They  have  a  kind  of  instinctive  dialect.  When  they  have 
been  disappointed  in  seeking  their  prey,  they  will  set  up 
the  most  terrific  and  hideous  howling.  One  of  them  can 
make  such  a  chorus  of  howls  as  to  make  you  think  there 
are  a  dozen.  Their  skin  is  worth  but  little,  except,  it  is 
said,  it  is  good  for  drum-heads;  and  their  flesh  is  never 
eaten,  except  by  those  who  may  be  in  a  starving  condition. 

The  raccoon  is  a  valuable  animal,  both  as  an  article  of 
food  .and  for  the  fur.  Its  color  is  grayish.  Its  skin,  in- 
cluding, of  course,  the  fur,  in  early  times,  was  in  good 
demand,  and  the  backwoodsmen  used  it  as  a  kind  of  cir- 
culating medium  in  the  absence  of  coin  and  bank  notes, 


94  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

and  it  "vas  universally  current,  always  being  considered  a 
lawful  tender.  "Fouf  coon-skins  were  considered  a  dollar, 
and  such  were  vastly  more  valuable  than  an  Owl  Creek 
or  Red  Dog  bank  note,  which  often  proved,  to  the  pos- 
sessor, to  be  of  no  more  value  than  a  rag.  The  coon  is 
domesticated  with  little  labor,  but  he  is  quite  mischievous 
as  well  as  cunning  and  shy.  Coons  live  on  mast,  and 
sometimes  on  flesh.  They  are  great  lovers  of  poultry, 
and  understand  well  the  art  of  robbing  a  hen-roost.  They 
are  fond  also,  like  the  Frenchman,  of  frogs,  which  they 
catch  with  great  dexterity,  and  which  they  prepare  for 
their  meals  with  all  the  nicety  of  an  epicurean.  They  are 
fond  also  of  corn,  and  will  enter  the  field  and  help  them- 
selves bountifully.  Many  were  the  sports,  in  an  early  day. 
connected  with  coon-hunting.  They  are  a  nocturnal  ani- 
mal, and  hence  they  are  hunted  in  the  night.  Dogs,  well 
trained  to  the  business,  will  find  them  and  tree  them. 
When  this  is  accomplished,  the  next  thing  is  to  cut  down 
the  tree  or  send  up  some  one  to  shake  them  off.  Many 
are  the  anecdotes  that  are  told  of  coon-hunt»rs.  A  laugh- 
able  one  is  related  of  a  clerical  friend  of  mine  during  his 
younger  days.  He  was  out  with  a  party  one  night  coon- 
bunting,  and  the  doo-s  having  treed  an  old  coon,  it  was 
determined,  by  the  party,  that  our  friend  should  climb  the 
tree  and  shake  him  off,  so  that  the  do<>s  might  catch  him. 
Accordingly  he  ascended,  and  stealing  softly  from  branch 
to  branch,  in  search  of  the  coon,  he  finally  espied  him 
snugly  ensconsed  on  one  of  the  topmost  branches,  a  some- 
what interested  spectator  of  the  scene  which  was  transact- 
ing below.  Proceeding  cautiously,  he  reached  the  limb 
below  that  on  which  was  the  coon.  Raising  himself  jp 
for  the  purpose  of  reaching  the  limb  which  he  intended  to 
shake,  the  one  on  which  he  stood  was  heard  to  crack  and 
began  to  give  way.  He  was  now  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground       Aware  of  his  perilous  condition,  he  cried  out  to 


.REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  95 

his  companions  below,  "I'm  falling. "  Seeing  his  danger 
and  that  nothing  scarcely  less  than  a  miracle  could  save 
him  from  death,  they  besought  him  to  pray.  "Pray," 
said  he;  "I  haven't  time;  I  can't  pray."  "But  you 
must  pray.  If  you  fall,  you  will  be  killed."  He  then 
commenced  repeating  the  only  prayer  he  knew:  "Now  I 
lay  me  down  to  sleep;"  but  he  could  proceed  no  further, 
as  the  cracking  of  the  limb  indicated  its  speedy  severance 
from  the  trunk,  and  he  cried  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
"Hold  the  do^s;  I'm  coming."  And  sure  enough,  down 
he  came  with  a  crash ;  and  the  dogs,  thinking  it  to  be  the 
coon,  were  with  difficulty  restrained  from  attacking  the 
coon-hunter,  who  was  considerably  stunned  by  the  fall. 

A  negro  obtained  permission  from  his  master  to  start 
out  coon-hunting  one  night,  and  on  seeing  his  master  in 
the  morning,  who  was  anxious  to  know  about  his  success, 
related  the  following:  "Well,  massa,  you  know  I  treed 
de  coon,  and  I  climbs  up  to  shake  him  oft*  de  limb. 
When  I  got  by  him,  I  begins  to  shake,  and  presently  1 
hearn  something  drap,  and  what  does  you  think  it  was, 
massa?"  "Why,  the  coon  to  be  sure."  "No  it  wan't, 
massa;  it  was  dis  here  nigga."  It  appears  that,  instead 
of  shaking  oft'  the  coon,  he  shook  himself  off. 

Coons  are  sometimes  caught  in  traps  and  dead-falls. 
A  hunter  will  sometimes  make  a  great  many,  and  go 
round  twice  a  week  to  examine  them,  and  in  this  way 
will  take  from  ten  to  twenty  at  a  time.  Another  plan  is 
adopted  late  in  the  fall,  which  is  to  make  fire-hunts; 
which  is  done  by  setting  fire  to  the  leaves  in  a  circle 
including  an  area  of  several  miles.  As  this  fire  advances 
toward  the  center,  it  drives  the  coons  up  the  trees,  and 
the  deer  and  other  game  are  brought  together  into  what 
is  called  a  pound,  where  they  are  shot. 

The  opossum  is  an  ugly  and  deceitful  animal.  If  you 
strike  him,  he  will  roll  over,  and  appear  as  if  dead,  and 


96  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

as  soon  as  you  leave  him  he  starts  up  and  hastens  to  his 
den.  His  tail  is  entirely  bare,  and  serves  many  good  pur- 
poses to  the  animal.  He  is  not  easily  shaken  off'  a  tree, 
like  the  coon,  but  clings  to  it  with  the  greatest  tenacity, 
winding  his  tail  around  the  limb,  and  defying  all  efforts  to 
shake  him  down.  A  hard-shell  Baptist  preacher  once 
introduced  this  animal  into  his  discourse,  to  illustrate  the 
doctrine  of  final  perseverance.  The  female  opossum  has 
a  kind  of  sack,  in  which  she  carries  her  young.  The 
flesh  of  this  animal  is  like  that  of  the  young  pig;  the  oil 
Js  abundant,  and  answers  well  to  burn  in  lamps,  or  grease 
harness.  The  flesh  of  the  opossum  and  new  corn  mush 
was  considered  a  most  delicate  dish  among  backwoods 
families.  Their  skins,  when  dressed,  are  as  white  as  the 
skin  of  the  chamois,  and  make  fine  gloves  for  backwoods 
ladies. 

A  hunter's  life  is  one  of  constant  excitement.  He  is 
always  on  the  look-out,  and  filled  with  constant  expecta- 
tion. His  narratives  always  possess  a  thrilling  interest, 
and  are  listened  to  with  the  greatest  attention.  His  wants 
are  but  few,  and  he  is  not  disturbed  with  cankering  care 
about  the  future.  His  employment  does  not  lead  him  to 
covetousness,  and  he  is  always  characterized  by  a  gener- 
ous hospitality.  His  hut  or  cabin  is  always  a  sure  asylum 
for  the  hungry  and  destitute.  Who  ever  crossed  its 
threshold,  and  was  turned  away  unfed  and  uncared  for? 
The  poor  and  the  stranger  will  feel  much  better  in  the 
log-cabin,  partaking  of  its  hospitalities  by  a  cheerful  (ire, 
than  when  surrounded  by  the  cold  constraint  of  a  nabob's 
table.  With  these  sous  and  daughters  of  nature  will  be 
found  the  genuine  hospitalities  of  nature's  noblemen. 

I  will  close  this  chapter  with  a  few  remarks  on  the 
dress  of  those  days.  The  backwoodsman  usually  wore  a 
hunting-shirt  and  trowsers  made  of  buckskin,  and  moc- 
casins of  the  same  material.     His  cap  was  made  of  coon 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  97 

afcin,  and  sometimes  ornamented  with  a  fox's  tail.  The 
ladies  dressed  in  linsey-woolsey,  and  sometimes  buckskin. 
A  gradual  improvement,  however,  took  place  m  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  the  people. 

About  the  period  in  which  the  British  forces  at  York- 
town  surrendered,  the  colonists  were  in  a  complete  state 
of  transition.  Commerce  began  to  revive.  Many  small 
prizes  were  taken  by  the  American  cruisers,  brought  in, 
condemned,  and  sold.  Many  merchant  vessels,  richly 
laden,  sailing  under  the  protection  of  the  French  flag, 
reached  in  safety  their  ports  of  destination ;  and  the  mer- 
chandise thus  brought  in  soon  found  its  way  into  the  inte- 
rior, and  was  exchanged  for  skins,  furs,  ginseng,  black 
and  Seneca  snake  roots,  sarsaparilla,  etc.  In  search  of 
those  roots  the  mountains  were  traversed,  and  employ- 
ment given  to  vast  numbers  of  persons. 

The  effects  from  thence  resulting  soon  manifested  them- 
selves in  the  improved  dress  of  the  females,  as  well  as  in 
the  furniture  of  each  household,  and  in  many  other  par- 
ticulars. Singing  and  common  reading  schools  began  to 
be  encouraged,  and  males  and  females  vied  with  each 
other  in  the  culture  of  their  intellects,  conversational 
powers,  and  address.  There  were  several  ancient  families 
m  Oldtown  and  its  vicinity,  who,  in  early  life,  had  been 
well  educated,  whose  wealth  enabled  them  to  procure  tne 
richest  articles  of  dress  and  furniture  to  be  had  in  the 
cities.  By  them  the  ancient  customs  and  fashions  of  the 
English  were  kept  up,  till  modified  or  changed  by  the 
introduction  of  French  customs  and  manners. 

Prior  to  the  commencement  of  the  transition  indicated, 
Jbe  dress  of  females,  as  at  present,  greatly  differed. 
Among  the  laboring  classes,  the  usual  summer  dress  con- 
sisted of  a  tow  or  linen  chemise,  short  gown,  and  petti- 
coat, which  extended  down  a  little  below  the  calf  of  the 
leg.  without  stockings  or  shoes,     The  hair  was  either  tied 

7 


98  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

in  a  liard  knot  on  the  nape  of  the  neck,  or  plaited  ana 
confined  on  the  top  of  the  head;  and  their  toilet  was 
completed  either  with  or  without  a  coarse  neckerchief. 
The  dress  on  gala  days  of  Uiose  who  moved  in  the  higher 
circles  of  society  also  varied.  Their  shoes  differed  from 
those  worn  by  ladies  of  the  present  day  in  this:  they 
had  high  heels.  Those  heels  were  made  of  wood,  beau- 
tifully tapered,  neatly  covered  with  leather,  and  varied  in 
hight  from  one  to  two  inches.  The  under  clothing  waa 
confined  by  stays,  tightly  laced.  The  outer  covering  was 
composed  of  the  richest  brocade,  or  other  silks  and  satins, 
and  stomacher,  neckerchief,  gloves,  rings,  and  ruffles  in 
profusion.  The  hair  was  combed  forward,  and  a  cushion, 
suited  to  the  form  of  the  head,  varying  from  three  to  six 
inches  in  hight,  was  placed  upon  the  top  of  the  head, 
over  which  the  hair  was  neatly  spread,  and  fastened  be- 
hind with  a  comb  and  ribbons,  by  which  a  rich,  towering 
plume  of  feathers  was  also  fastened.  A  lady  in  full  dress, 
entering  a  drawing-room,  would  appear  to  be  as  tall  as  a 
May-pole,  if  not  as  cadaverous  as  a  death's  head.  Th<». 
bonnet  was  of  enormous  size,  and  usually  measured  from 
three  to  three  and  a  half  feet  in  circumference.  Hence, 
against  the  form  of  dressing  here  indicated,  the  rule  in 
the  Methodist  Discipline  was  framed:  "Give  no  tickets 
to  any  who  wear  high  heads,  enormous  bonnets,  ruffles, 
or  rings."  The  rule  has  become  a  dead  letter  among 
preachers  and  people. 


KKV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  99 


CHAPTER    IV. 

NARRATIVE    CONTINUED. 

In  the  summer  of  1794  General  Wayne  crossed  the 
mountains  with  an  army,  for  the  purpose  of  quelling  the 
Indians.  After  a  successful  battle,  in  which  "Mad  An- 
thony," as  the  Indians  termed  him,  became  a  terror  to  ah 
the  tribes,  he  was  enabled  to  effect  a  treaty  with  them  at 
Greenville.  This  gave  the  country  rest  and  quiet  from 
the  horrors  of  Indian  war,  and  brought  about  a  new  era 
in  the  history  of  the  west. 

Immigration  poured  into  Kentucky  like  a  flood,  and 
vast  multitudes  engaged  m  land  speculation.  Whole  tracts 
of  country  were  sold  by  these  speculators  with  or  without 
title,  and  thousands  were  stripped  of  their  all.  Dispos- 
session was  carried  on  to  so  great  a  length  that  many  be- 
came utterly  dissatisfied,  having  bought  their  farms  two 
or  three  times  over,  and  they  began  to  look  elsewhere  for 
a  habitation. 

The  North-western  territory  was  beginning  to  open  to 
western  enterprise,  and  my  father  and  his.  congregation 
resolved  to  seek  a  new  home.  Many  of  them  had  paid 
every  farthing  they  had  for  land ;  had  encountered  all  the 
dangers  of  an  Indian  warfare  in  settling  it,  and  had  spent 
the  vigor  of  their  strength  in  clearing  and  bringing  it  un- 
der  cultivation;  and  just  when  they  found  themselves  be- 
ginning to  live  comfortably,  some  other  claimant  would 
come  and  dispossess  them  of  their  homes.  In  vain  did 
they  seek  redress  of  those  from  whom  they  purchased; 
for  more  frequently  than  otherwise  did  it  happen   that  he 


100  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

was  some  land  harpie  himself.  So  odious  did  those  men 
become,  who  engaged  in  land  speculation,  that  they  were 
looked  upon  generally  as  a  class  of  villains;  and  when- 
ever the  poor  farmer  went  to  search  for  them  they  were 
gone,  and  they  had  hopelessly  to  return,  and  in  a  penni- 
less condition  seek  a  new  home. 

In  view  of  this  state  of  things,  my  father  addressed  the 
following  letter  to  General  Massie,  for  a  copy  of  which  1 
am  indebted  to  his  son,  N.  Massie,  Esq.,  of  Chilicothe : 
"Bourbon  County,  Kr.,  December  12,  1794. 

"Sir, — After  compliments  to  you,  I  take  the  liberty  ot 
addressing  you  for  information.  I  understand  you  have  a 
large  quantity  of  land  on  the  Scioto  and  Paint  creek  foi 
sale.  I  would  be  pleased  to  know  its  qualities,  and  what' 
advantages  two  large  societies  could  have.  A  number 
have  thought  of  purchasing  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  square 
for  the  settlement  of  two  congregations,  and  have  been 
informed  that  you  could  supply  us.  Sir,  I  request,  the 
favor  of  you,  by  Mr.  Rogers,  the  bearer,  to  furnish  me 
with  the  situation,  quality,  and  the  quantity  you  could 
sell,  and  what  would  be  your  price  per  hundred  acres,  and 
what  your  terms  of  payment,  by  taking  such  a  quantity 
of  land  as  would  be  sufficient  to  settle  two  congregations, 
or  say  three  hundred  families.  But  it  is  probable  the 
present  circumstances  of  the  country  would  require  some 
time  to  make  a  settlement  in  it  with  prudence.  You  will 
please  let  me  know  at  what  time  this  winter  it  would  meet 
your  convenience  to  go  with  us  and  show  us  these  lands, 
A  number  of  us  would  love  to  see  the  advantages  which 
the  country  will  afford  for  such  a  settlement.  Your  com- 
pliance will. much  oblige  your  humble  servant, 

"Robt.  W.  Finlet. 

"Mr.  Nathaniel  Massie,  Esq." 

The  next  spring  was  fixed  on  by  the  parties  to  visit  the 
country  and  explore  the  land. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    ElNl'EY.  j  01 

Accordingly,  while  General  Wayne  was  treating  with 
the  Indians,  at  Greenville,  a  company  of  forty  persons 
met  at  Manchester,  on  the  Ohio  river,  with  the  intention 
of  exploring  the  Scioto  country.  General  Massie  was  the 
principal  in  this  expedition.  My  father  and  several  of  his 
congregation  formed  a  part  of  the  company.  After  pro- 
ceeding cautiously  for  a  number  of  days,  in  a  northerly 
direction,  they  reached  Paint  creek  near  the  falls.  This 
stream  is  a  tributary  of  the  Scioto,  and,  with  the  Scioto, 
waters  one  of  the  finest  agricultural  countries  in  the 
world.  Here  they- discovered  fresh  traces  of  Indians,  the 
signs  being  such  as  to  indicate  that  they  could  not  be  far 
off.  They  had  not  proceeded  far  till  they  heard  the  bells 
on  their  horses.  Some  of  the  company  were  what  was 
called  new  hands,  and  previous  to  this  had  been  very 
anxious  to  smell  Indian  powder.  One  of  the  old  men 
remarked,  on  witnessing  their  anxiety,  "If  you  get  a  sight 
of  the  Indians  you  will  run,  or  I  am  mistaken."  A  coun- 
cil was  called  of  the  most  experienced  in  Indian  warfare, 
and  the  result  of  their  deliberations  was,  that  it  was  too 
late  to  retreat  with  safety  and  without  great  danger.  They 
resolved,  as  the  best  possible  course,  to  attack  the  enemy 
by  surprise.  It  was  agreed  that  General  Massie,  Fallen- 
ash,  and  my  father  should  take  the  command  and  lead  on 
the  men,  and  Captain  Petty  was  to  bring  up  the  rear. 

The  Indians  were  encamped  on  the  bank  of  Paint  creek 
precisely  where  the  turnpike  now  crosses  it,  at  what  was 
called  Reeves's  old  crossing.  Out  of  the  forty  in  com- 
pany only  about  twenty  engaged  in  battle.  Those  who 
were  so  anxious  to  smell  Indian  powder  retreated,  and 
Captain  Patte  reported  them  as  having  taken  refuge  be- 
tween old  logs  and  other  defenses,  trembling  with  fear. 
The  remainder  advanced  cautiously  till  within  fifty  yards, 
when  they  fired  and  rushed  into  the  Indians'  camp.  As- 
tounded by  this  attack,  the  Indians  fled  down  the  bank 


lOl!  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

and  across  the  stream,  many  of  them  leaving  their  guns 
Several  were  killed  and  wounded  One  of  the  company — 
Mr.  Robinson — was  shot,  and  died  in  a  few  minutes.  Th>. 
Indians  were  Shawnees,  and  would  not  go  to  the  treaty. 
They  had  a  prisoner  with  them,  who,  in  the  fight,  made 
his  escape,  and  finally  succeeded  in  reaching  his  home. 
His  name  was  Armstrong.  As  soon  as  the  company  could 
bury  the  dead  and  gather  up  the  horses  and  plunder  of 
the  Indians,  they  directed  their  course  to  Manchester;  but 
night  overtook  them  on  Scioto  Brush  creek,  and  as  they 
expected  to  be  followed  by  the  Indians,  they  stopped  and 
made  the  necessary  preparations  for  defense.  The  next 
morning,  an  hour  before  daylight,  the  Indians  made  their 
appearance,  and  opened  upon  them  a  vigorous  fire,  which 
was  promptly  and  vigorously  returned.  Those  who  would 
not  fight  took  shelter  from  the  balls  of  the  enemy  in  a 
large  sink-hole  in  the  bounds  of  the  encampment.  After 
a  hot  contest,  which  lasted  an  hour,  the  Indians  were 
repulsed  and  fled.  One  of  the  party  of  the  whites  was 
wounded  in  the  battle,  but  not  mortally.  As  soon  as 
preparations  could  be  made  for  departure  they  left,  and 
the  next  day  reached  Manchester,  and  thus  ended  the  ex- 
pedition for  that  time. 

In  the  spring  of  1796,  about  the  last  of  April,  anothei 
company  met  at  Manchester  for  the  purpose  of  proceeding 
to  the  Scioto  Valley  and  raising  a  crop  of  corn,  and  mak- 
ing other  preparations  for  removing  in  the  fall  or  winter, 
and  so  make  a  permanent  settlement.  Some  of  this  com- 
pany proceeded  by  land,  and  others  by  water.  Those 
who  took  the  land  route  took  their  horses  well  ladened, 
and  those  who  went  by  water  carried  the  farming  uten- 
sils and  the  necessary  breadstuffs.  There  was  no  road, 
not  even  a  path  or  a  way  blazed  through  the  deep  forest. 
In  all  the  route  there  was  no  inhabitant.  All  was  a  per- 
fect   and    continuous    wilderness   to  Wheeling,   Virginia. 


EEV.   JAMES    B.    E1NLEY.  103 

Near  where  the  town  of  West  Union  now  stands,  there 
was  one  cabin  built  by  Mr.  Oiler,  but  no  one  lived  in  it. 
The  pioneers,  however,  entered  upon  their  journey,  and 
found  their  way  without  much  difficulty,  arriving  safe  at 
the  place  of  their  destination,  which  was  a  beautiful  prai- 
rie, below  where  Chilicothe  now  stands,  called  the  Station 
prairie.  Their  companions,  after  a  laborious  voyage  up 
the  Scioto,  arrived  safely  and  joined  the  overland  party. 
Theirs  were  the  first  crafts  of  the  white  man  that  stemmed 
the  rapids  of  the  Scioto.  Here  in  this  prairie  the  plow 
of  the  white  man  first  turned  up  the  virgin  soil.  The 
prairie  being  plowed,  the  corn  was  planted,  and  all  that 
the  husbandman  had  to  do,  was  to  brush  down  the  weeds 
with  a  wooden  harrow.  With  such  simple  cultivation  a 
large  crop  was  produced.  Mr.  Kilgore  raised  on  one  acre 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  bushels  of  corn  without  any 
fence  to  inclose  his  field. 

During  this  summer  General  Massie  laid  out  the  town 
of  Chilicothe,  and  Mr.  John  M'Coy  raised  the  first  log- 
cabin.  This  pioneer  habitation  was  followed  by  several 
others  during  the  fall  and  winter.  The  place  where  Chil- 
icothe now  stands  was  a  hickory  flat,  and  so  plentiful 
were  the  nuts  that  they  might  have  been  raked  up  in 
almost  any  quantity. 

This  fall  Mr.  Zane,  by  a  contract  with  the  Government, 
marked  out  a  trace,  through  the  wilderness,  from  Wheel- 
ing to  Maysville.  This  was  done  by  merely  blazing  the 
trees  and  bushes ;  and  with  this  guide  the  traveling  com- 
menced. Soon  great  companies  passed  over  Zane's  trace, 
and  settlements  were  made  at  the  Muskingum  river,  where 
the  town  of  Zanesville  now  stands,  and  also  on  Wills 
creek.  There  were  several  points  toward  which  the  atten- 
tion of  the  emigrant  was  directed ;  such,  for  instance,  as 
the  Muskingum,  Hock-Hocking,  and  Scioto  Valleys,  with 
their   tributaries.     The    population   in    these   valleys    in 


104  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

creased  with  a  rapidity  unknown  to  any  countiy  before 
so  great,  that,  in  a  period  of  fifty  years,  from  a  population 
of  three  thousand,  Ohio  has  increased  to  two  millions. 
The  blazed  road  of  the  white  man  and  the  war-path  of 
the  Indian  have  been  cleared  out  and  paved  with  stone, 
over  which  roll  post-coaches  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an 
hour;  or  have  been  laid  with  iron  tracks,  over  which  the 
locomotive  with  its  numerous  cars  attached  is  propelled  at 
the  rate  of  forty  miles  an  hour.  Beside  this,  canals,  ex- 
tending across  the  state,  have  united  the  waters  of  the 
lakes  of  the  north  with  the  rivers  of  the  south.  Splendid 
steamers,  resembling  floating  palaces,  which  make  the 
earth  tremble  with  the  thunder  of  their  steam  and  the 
roar  of  their  machinery,  covered  with  passengers,  and 
freighted  with  the  commerce  of  the  world,  have  taken  the 
place  of  the  canoe,  the  broadhorn,  and  the  keel-boat,  as 
coaches,  canal  boats,  and  railroad  cars  have  taken  the 
place  of  the  pack-horse,  the  ox-cart,  and  the  covered 
wagon.  Instead  of  the  log-cabin  with  its  rude  furniture, 
we  have  stately  palaces  with  the  most  elegant  and  costly 
furniture ;  the  tables  of  which  groan  with  the  luxuries  of 
every  clime.  Instead  of  villages  with  trees,  stump%,  and 
bear-wallows  in  the  streets,  we  have  magnificent  cities 
with  streets  extending  for  miles,  all  paved,  and  brilliantly 
illuminated  with  gas,  the  burners  of  which  are  almost  as 
numerous  as  the  fire-flies  which  illuminated  our  meadows 
in  olden  times.  Instead  of  the  tedious  process  of  the 
mail  department,  by  which  it  took  a  letter  several  weeks  to 
reach  the  seat  of  government,  now  the  lightning,  which 
had  been  caught  by  our  Franklin,  domesticated,  and 
taught  to  speak  by  our  Morse,  will  carry  not  only  oui 
words,  but  our  very  thoughts  over  plains,  rivers,  valleys, 
and  mountains — outstripping  the  horses  and  chanots  of 
nre — almost  instantly  from  one  extreme  of  the  continent 
to  the  other,  annihilating  space,  and  distancing  time  i'.self. 


KET.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  105 

Such  a  change  never  entered  the  most  fervent  imagina- 
tion of  our  backwoodsmen ;  and  he  who  would  have  inti- 
mated the  possibility  of  such  a  thing,  would  have  been 
set  down  as  a  lunatic.  All  we  hoped  for  or  expected,  was 
to  have  some  rich  farms  in  these  luxuriant  bottoms,  and 
always  plenty  of  deers  and  bear  on  our  hills.  Even  this 
was  not  likely  to  be  realized,  for  immigration  poured  in 
upon  us  like  the  locusts  of  Egypt,  and  threatened  to  de- 
vour every  thing.  Keel-boats  commenced  running  up  the 
Scioto  river,  and  we  were  constantly  advised,  by  the  boat- 
man's horn,  of  their  arrival  and  departure. 

William  Craig  was  the  first  man  who  drove  a  wagon 
and  team  to  Chilicothe,  over  Zane's  trace.  It  was  a 
most  tedious  and  difficult  undertaking ;  for  he  had  to  cut 
his  way  through  for  a  distance  of  seventy  miles.  Pa- 
tience and  perseverance,  however,  had  its  reward,  and  he 
with  his  family  finally  succeeded  in  reaching  the  encamp- 
ment. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  describe  the  beauty 
of  these  rich  bottoms.  The  soil  itself  for  richness  was 
not  exceeded  by  any  in  the  world.  The  lofty  sugar-tree, 
spreading  its  beautiful  branches ;  the  graceful  elm,  waving 
its  tall  head,  the  monarch  of  the  forest;  the  black  and 
white  walnut;  the  giant  oak,  the  tall  hickory;  the  cherry 
and  hackberry;  the  spicewood,  with  its  fragrance;  the 
papaw,  with  its  luscious  fruit;  the  wild  plum;  the  rich 
clusters  of  grapes,  which,  hanging  from  the  massy  vines, 
festooned  the  forest ;  and,  beneath  all,  the  wild  rye,  green 
as  a  wheat-field,  mixed  with  the  prairie  and  buffalo  clo- 
ver— all  formed  a  garden  of  nature  most  enchanting  to 
behold.  The  clear  and  beautiful  rivulet  creeping  through 
the  grass,  and  softly  rippling  over  pebbly  bottoms,  the 
gentle  zephyrs  freighted  with  nature's  incense,  pure  ind 
sweet,  regaled  our  senses,  and  filled  us  with  delight.  All 
nature  had  a  voice  which  spoke  most  impressively  to  the 


i()(j  AUTOBIOGEArnY    off 

•>oul,  and  while  all  the  senses  were  pervaded  with  an  un 
utterable  delight,  the  solemn  stillness  seemed  to  say,  God 
reigns  here.  The  song  of  the  lark  and  nightingale,  the 
melancholy  wail  of  the  dove  or  whistle  of  the  whippowil, 
the  low  hum  of  the  bee,  .the  chirping  of  the  grasshopper, 
the  bark  ol  the  squirrel,  the  drumming  of  the  pheasant, 
the  bleat  of  the  fawn,  the  growl  of  the  bear,  the  hoot  of 
the  owl,  the  howl  of  the  wolf,  the  scream  of  the  panther, 
and  the  yell  of  the  Indian,  were  all  that  broke  the  silence 
in  this  deep  and  beautiful  forest. 

Although  I  had  parted  with  my  Kentucky  home  and 
her  favorite  cane-brakes,  my  much-loved  school-mates  and 
playfellows,  with  great  reluctance,  yet  when  I  was  intro- 
duced to  the  delightful  scenes  in  Ohio,  my  tears  were  all 
dried  up,  and  the  beautiful  cane-brakes  were  cheerfully 
resigned  for  the  rich  and  more  beautiful  meadows  enam- 
eled with  flowers  of  every  hue.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
first  night  I  took  up  my  lodgings  in  the  valley  of  Paint 
creek.  It  was  near  the  falls.  A  large  flock  of  wild  geese, 
on  their  passage,  had  stopped  for  the  night,  and  were 
sporting  in  the  foaming  waters  just  below  the  falls.  They 
seemed  to  have  met  by  concert,  to  hold  a  soiree  or  feast 
of  rejoicing  at  the  approach  of  spring.  It  was  a  calm  and 
quiet  day.  The  sun  was  throwing  his  last  gentle  rays 
among  the  branches  of  the  towering  elms  which  lined  the 
banks  of  this  beautiful  stream,  and  the  heavens  were 
tinged  with  his  mellow  beams,  just  as  we  arrived  at  our 
destination,  and  unloading  our  horses,  we  unstopped  their 
bells,  and  turned  them  out  to  feed  on  the  grass  and  wild 
rye  of  the  bottom.  Soon  the  shades  of  night  gathered 
around  us.  With  spunk  and  steel  we  soon  struck  up  a 
cheerful  fire,  and  taking  the  corn-bread  and  bacon  from 
our  sacks,  with  the  cool  water  of  the" rivulet  which  glided 
by  us,  we  slaked  our  thirst  and  had  a  good  repast.  After 
talking  over  the  adventures  of  the   day  we  rolled  our- 


KEY.    JAMES    B.    t^KLEt.  107 

selves  up  in  blankets  and  went  into  a  refreshing  slumber 
wnich  lasted  undisturbed  till  the  gray  beams  of  morning 
admonished  us  of  the  hour  to  rise.     Resuming  our  jour- 
ney, we  proceeded  down  main  Paint  creek,  and  in   the 
afternoon  of  the  same  day  reached  our  destination. 

With  all  the  richness  of  the  country,  the  beauty  of  its 
birds  and  flowers,  the  softness  of  the  climate,  and  the  fra- 
grance of  the  atmosphere,  redolent  as  Eden,  still  it  was 
earth,  and  the  effects  of  sin  had  reached  this  charming 
abode.  The  new  settlements  were  regularly  visited  with 
autumnal  fevers.  They  were  of  the  bilious  type,  and, 
sometimes,  the  symptoms  resembled  those  of  yellow  fever. 
Bilious  intermittens,  or  fever  and  ague,  prevailed  to  a  great 
extent.  These  were  supposed  to  have  been  caused  by  the 
effluvia  arising  from  the  decomposition  of  the  luxuriant 
vegetation  which  grew  so  abundantly  every- where.  These 
fevers  were  attended  with  great  mortality,  and  the  suffer- 
ings occasioned  by  them  were  immense.  Often  there  was 
not  one  member  of  the  family  able  to  help  the  others ;  and 
instances  occurred  in  which  the  dead  lay  unburied  for 
days,  because  no  one  could  report.  The  extensive  preva- 
lence of  sickness,  however,  did  not  deter  immigration.  A 
desire  to  possess  the  rich  lands  overcame  all  fear  of  sick- 
ness, and  the  living  tide  rolled  on  heedless  of  death.  In 
the  summer  of  1798  the  bloody  flux  raged  as  an  epidemic 
with  great  violence,  and  for  a  while  threatened  to  depopu- 
late the  whole  town  of  Chilicothe  and  its  vicinity.  Medi- 
cal skill  was  exerted  to  its  utmost,  but  all  to  no  purpose, 
as  but  very  few  who  were  attacked  recovered.  From 
eight  to  ten  were  buried  per  day.  At  length  a  French 
trader,  by  the  name  of  Drouillard,  came  and  adminis- 
tered to  the  sick  with  great  success,  giving  relief  in  a  few 
hours,  and,  in  almost  every  case,  effecting  a  permanent 
-ure. 

During  this  summer  an  event  occurred  in   Chilicothe 


108  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

very  unfavorable  to  the  peace  and  safety  of  the  country 
Mr.  Stoops,  preparatory  to  opening  a  house  of  entertain- 
ment, called  together  his  neighbors  for  the  purpose  ot 
raising  his  house  a  story  higher.  In  the  evening  an  In- 
dian, of  the  Wyandott  nation,  somewhat  intoxicated,  came 
into  t?wn  and  behaved  himself  very  rudely  at  the  raising 
He  was  reprimanded  by  Mr.  Thomas  Thompson,  who  was 
a  very  athletic  man.  The  Indian  drew  his  knife,  and, 
concealing  the  blade  of  it  in  his  arm  sleeve,  waited  his 
opportunity  to  attack  Thompson.  A  person  who  observed 
him  advised  him  to  leave  for  the  camp ;  for  if  Thompson 
should  find  out  that  he  had  drawn  his  knife  he  would  kill 
him.  The  Indian  mounted  his  horse,  but  refused  to  leave 
the  place.  Some  one  informed  Thompson  of  his  danger, 
and  he  immediately  seized  a  handspike,  and,  striking  the 
Indian  on  the  head,  felled  him  to  the  earth.  That  night 
the  Indian  died  of  his  wounds  and  was  carried  to  the  In- 
dian encampment.  As  soon  as  the  Indians  learned  the 
cause  of  his  death  they  immediately  demanded  Thompson, 
that  they  might  punish  him  according  to  their  law,  which 
was  life  for  life;  and  informed  the  town  that  if  he  was  not 
given  up  they  would  fall  on  the  place  and  murder,  in 
revenge,  men,  women,  and  children,  which  they  could 
easily  have  done,  as  they  were  much  more  numerous  than 
the  whites.  Some  of  the  inhabitants  were  for  complying, 
but  the  majority  were  opposed  to  it.  After  some  consid- 
erable consultation  it  was  agreed  to  try  another  method, 
which  was  to  buy  the  life  of  the  murderer  by  making 
presents  to  the  relations  of  the  murdered,  and  promising 
to  punish  the  murderer  according  to  our  law.  This  plan 
succeeded,  and  Thompson  was  placed  under  guard  of  four 
men,  there  being  no  jail  there  at  that  time.  After  some 
two  months  he  was  permitted  to  make  his  escape,  and  one 
or  the  guards  went  with  him.  The  half-brother  of  the 
deceased  determining  to  avenge  the  death  of  his  brother, 


REV.    JAMES     B.     FIN LEY.  10'J 

Cook  with  him  another  Indian,  and  waylaying  Zane's  trace, 
they  found  two  young  men  traveling  alone,  whom  they 
killed  and  robbed  of  their  horses  and  effects;  and  thus 
two  innocent  men  paid  the  debt  of  a  murderer,  who,  un- 
der the  influence  of  whisky,  committed  the  crime.  Such 
were  some  of  the  evils  and  dangers  brought  on  the  com- 
munity  by  strong  drink. 

The  first  public  house,  or  hotel,  kept  in  Chilicothe,  was 
by  a  man  by  the  name  of  Benjamin  Urmstedt.  The  first 
store  was  kept  by  Mr.  John  M'Dougal.  The  first  Presby- 
terian minister  was  the  Rev.  Robert  W.  Finley,  and  the 
first  Methodist  ministers  were  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Harr  and 
Tiffin.  The  first  physician  was  Dr.  Samuel  M'Adow. 
The  first  Legislature  met  on  the  bank  of  the  Scioto  river, 
near  the  mouth  of  Mulberry-street,  under  a  large  syca- 
more-tree. This  was  entirely  democratic,  as  the  people 
represented  themselves.  The  principal  matter  which  oc- 
cupied the  attention  of  this  Legislature,  was  the  enact- 
ment of  a  law  for  the  suppression  of  drunkenness.  It 
was  the  custom  of  the  traders  to  give  and  sell  whisky  to 
the  Indians,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  many  of  them 
became  intoxicated ;  and  as  a  drunken  Indian  is  a  danger- 
ous creature,  the  peace  of  society  was  disturbed  and  the 
women  and  children  were  in  a  constant  state  of  alarm, 
day  and  night.  After  mature  deliberation  and  free  discus- 
sion, it  was  enacted  that  all  traders  who  sold  spirits  to  the 
Indians,  or  in  any  way  furnished  them  with  intoxicating 
liquors,  should  be  required  to  keep  all  the  Indians 'made 
drunk  by  them  in  their  own  storehouse  till  they  were 
sober,  on  penalty,  for  the  first  offense,  of  being  repri- 
manded by  two  persons  appointed  for  that  purpose,  and  on 
the  second  offense,  their  kegs  or  barrels  of  whisky,  01 
strong  drink,  were  to  be  taken  into  the  street  and  toma- 
hawked till  all  the  contents  were  run  out.  This  law  was 
set   at  naught  by  one  of  the  traders,  a  Mr.  M.,  but  h 


IJO  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

was  promptly  executed  to  the  letter  the  next  day  after  the 
sentence.  This  vigorous  maintenance  of  the  law,  on  the 
part  of  the  citizens,  made  the  traders  more  cautious,  and 
i^ave  more  safety  and  comfort  to  the  inhabitants. 

I  will  give  an  instance  of  another  somewhat  novel  pun- 
ishment adopted  in  those  times.  A  certain  man  stole 
some  clothes  from  Mr.  Crawford,  and  started  out  on  the 
trace  toward  Zanesville.  He  was  followed  and  overtaken 
with  the  clothes,  which  he  had  in  his  possession.  A  court 
was  organized,  and  he  had  a  fair  trial  by  a  jury  of  his 
own  selection,  who  found  him  guilty,  and  sentenced  him  to 
ten  lashes  upon  his  bare  back,  or,  if  he  preferred  it,  to 
mount  a  pack-saddle  on  his  pony,  and  his  wife — who  was 
•i  particeps  criminis — was  to  take  it  by  the  halter  and  lead 
it  to  every  door  in  town,  and  cry  aloud,  "This  is  Bran- 
non,  who  stole  the  big  coat,  handkerchief,  and  shirt."  He 
chose  the  latter,  which  was  executed  fully. 

In  the  fall  of  1796  my  father  set  all  his  slaves  free. 
He  had  been  for  years  convinced  that  it  was  wrong  to  hold 
his  fellow-men  in  bondage,  and  thus  deprive  them  of  their 
natural  rights;  and  he  was  particularly  impressed  with 
the  belief  that  there  could  be  no  civil  regulation  author- 
izing the  possession  of  human  beings  as  goods  and  chat- 
tels, that  would  justify  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  in  living 
upon  the  sweat,  and  blood,  and  tears  of  his  fellow-beings, 
as  dear  to  Christ  as  himself,  bought  with  the  same  pre- 
cious blood,  and  destined  to  the  same  eternity  of  exist- 
ence. Nor  could  he  bear  the  idea,  for  a  moment,  of  in- 
volving his  children  in  the  evils  of  slavery.  Not,  however, 
till  the  present  period,  of  which  I  am  writing,  had  arrived, 
had  he  the  opportunity  of  carrying  out  the  doctrines  of 
practical  emancipation.  My  grandfather  having  died  and 
willed  all  his  slaves  to  my  mother  and  her  children,  mak- 
ing my  father  the  sole  executor  of  the  estate,  he  iramedi 
ately  went  to  Paris,  Ky.,  and  executed  a  deed  of  emanci 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLKf.  Ill 

oation  to  all  the  slaves,  from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest, 
amounting,  in  all,  to  fourteen.  This  being  accomplished, 
he  gave  them  all  the  offer  of  removing  with  him  to  the 
new  country — as  Ohio  was  then  called — with  provision 
for  support  for  one  year  after  their  arrival ;  with  but  two 
exceptions  of  those  who  desired  to  remain  in  Kentucky, 
this  offer  was  accepted. 

Preparations  being  made  for  their  removal,  about  the 
first  of  December  in  the  year  above  named,  twelve  of  the 
emancipated  negroes  were  mounted  on  pack-horses,  and 
started  for  Ohio.  My  father  placed  me  in  charge  of  the 
company,  though  I  was  but  sixteen  years  of  age.  We 
carried  with  us  clothes,  bed-clothes,  provisions,  and  cook- 
ing utensils.  We  were  accompanied  with  parts  of  three 
families,  with  a  great  drove  of  hogs,  cows,  and  sheep. 
After  we  crossed  the  Ohio  river' it  became  excessively 
cold ;  and,  having  no  road  but  a  path  through  the  woods, 
we  were  not  able  to  travel  more  than  eight  or  ten  miles 
per  day.  Some  days  we  were  under  the  necessity  of 
lying  by,  it  was  so  intensely  cold.  The  colored  people 
are,  at  best,  a  helpless  race,  and  unable  to  stand  the  cold ; 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  some  of  them  were  kept 
from  freezing.  After  sixteen  days  of  toil  and  hardship, 
we  reached  our  place  of  destination  on  the  bank  of  the 
Scioto  below  Chilicothe.  Here  we  built  our  winter  camps, 
making  them  as  warm  as  we  could.  Our  bread  was 
made  of  pounded  hominy  and  corn  meal,  and  we  lived  on 
this  together  with  what  we  could  find  in  the  woods.  For- 
tunately for  us,  game  was  plenty,  and  we  caught  opos- 
sums by  the  score.  The  colored  people  lived  well  on  this 
food,  and  were  as  sleek  and  black  as  the  raven.  In  the 
spring  my  father  and  the  rest  of  the  family  moved  out. 
and,  as  soon  as  we  could  erect  a  cabin,  all  hands  went  to 
work  to  put  in  a  crop  of  corn. 

It  was  necessary  to  fence  in  the  prairie,  and  every  one 


112  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

had  to  inclose  with  a  fence  as  much  ground  as  he  had 
planted.  The  work  of  fencing  fell  to  my  lot.  Myself  and 
another  lad  built  a  camp,  in  which  we  lodged  at  night  and 
cooked  our  provisions.  We  frequently  killed  turkeys  and 
wild  ducks,  with  which  we  supplied  our  larder,  and  with 
our  johnny-cake,  baked  on  a  board  before  the  fire,  we  had 
a  good  supply  for  a  vigorous  appetite. 

After  our  corn  was  gathered  and  laid  by,  the  immi- 
grants came  pouring  into  the  country.  From  that  time  to 
the  be^innW  of  March  I  traveled  over  the  trace  from 
Chilicothe  to  Manchester  sixteen  times.  On  one  of  these 
visits  my  brother  John  accompanied  me,  father  having 
sent  us  by  that  route  to  Kentucky  for  seed- wheat.  We 
took  three  horses  with  us,  and  after  having  procured  the 
s-eed,  we  started  back.  On  our  homeward  journey  we 
found  considerable  difficulty  in  loading  our  horses  with 
the  bags.  We  could  take  them  off  when  we  stopped  foi 
the  night,  without  any  difficulty,  but  how  to  replace  them 
when  we  wished  to  start  in  the  morning,  was  not  so  easy 
a  matter.  Necessity,  however,  which  is  the  mother  of 
inventions,  taught  us  a  way  by  which  the  difficulty  was 
obviated.  ■  It  was  this :  when  we  wished  to  stop  we  would 
seek  the  largest  logs,  and  unload  upon  them,  by  which 
means  we  had  less  difficulty  in  placing  the  bags  on  the 
backs  of  the  horses.  Thus  we  tugged  our  way  through 
the  wilderness,  without  seeing  the  face  of  a  human  being 
till  we  reached  Paint  creek.  This  wheat,  I  believe,  was 
the  first  sown  on  the  waters  of  the  Scioto. 

This  year  our  horses  ran  away,  and  my  father  sent  me 
in  company  with  an  Indian,  whom  he  had  employed  for 
that  purpose,  to  go  and  hunt  them.  We  had  not  gone 
four  miles  from  the  settlement,  before  the  Indian  was  bit- 
ten by  a  rattlesnake  on  the  ankle,  betv  een  his  leggin  and 
moccasin.  It  was  one  of  the  large,  yellow  kind,  full  of 
poison.     As  soon  as  the  Indian  killed  his  enemy,  he  took 


KEV.    JAMfcS    B.    FINLEY.  113 

his  knife,  went  a  few  paces,  and  dug  up  a  root,  the  stalk 
of  which  resembled  very  much  the  stalk  of  flax,  about 
nine  inches  long.  The  root  was  yellow  and  very  slender, 
being  no  thicker  than  a  knitting-needle.  This  root  he 
chewed  and  swallowed.  He  then  put  more  in  his  mouth, 
and  after  chewing  it,  put  it  upon  the  wound.  Soon  after 
he  became  deathly  sick,  and  vomited.  He  repeated  the 
dose  three  times,  with  the  same  result,  and  then  putting 
some  fresh  root  on  the  bite,  we  traveled  on.  The  place 
where  he  was  bitten  after  awhile  became  swollen,  but  it 
did  not  extend  far,  and  soon  subsided.  This  root  is  un- 
doubtedly the  most  effectual  cure  for  poison  in  the  world — 
a  specif  c  antidote. 

I  frequently  hunted  with  John  Cushon,  an  Indian  of 
the  Tuscarora  tribe,  and  had  good  living  and  much  fine 
sport.  I  became  so  passionately  fond  of  the  gun  and  the 
woods,  and  Indian  life,  that  my  parents  feared  I  would  go 
off  with  the  Indians  and  become  connected  with  them. 
They  were  as  fondly  attached  to  me  as  I  to  them;  and 
notwithstanding  I  had  heard  so  much  of  their  treachery 
and  savage  barbarity,  I  felt  that  I  could  repose  the  most 
implicit  confidence  in  them.  The  mode  of  living  and 
manner  of  life,  which  consisted  in  hunting  the  buffalo, 
bear,  and  deer  in  the  wild  woods  and  glens,  free  from 
care  and  the  restraints  of  civilization,  made  Indian  life 
to  me  most  desirable ;  and  so  powerfully  had  these  things 
taken  hold  of  my  youthful  mind,  that  the  advice  and  en- 
treaties of  my  beloved  parents  could  scarcely  restrain  me 
from  following  it.  My  filial  affection,  however,  overcame 
the  love  of  the  chase,  and  I  was  persuaded  to  resume  the 
study  of  medicine,  which  I  had  commenced  in  Kentucky. 
Let  it  not  be  supposed  that,  though  I  was  e.  backwoods 
boy,  I  had  not  tasted  of  the  sweets  of  classical  literature. 
In  my  father's  academy  I  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a 
thorough  drilling  in  Latin  and  Greek,  and  even  now  I  can 

8 


114  AUTC  BIOGRAPHY    uF 

repeat  whole  books  of  the  jEneid  of  Virgil  and  the  Iliao 
of  Homer.  I  could  scan  Latin  or  Greek  verse  with  as 
much  fluency  as  I  can  now  sing  a  Methodist  hymn ;  and 
I  could  find  the  square  root  of  a  given  number  with  as 
much  precision  as  in  my  youthful  days  I  could  drive  a 
center  with  my  rifle.  And  yet,  strange  to  say,  my  Eng- 
lish education  was  neglected.  The  first  grammar  placed 
in  my  hands  was  a  Latin  grammar,  and  I  have  no  recol- 
lection of  having  studied  the  English  grammar  while  a 
youth.  Though  I  know  it  is  said  that  the  ancient  lan- 
guages are  more  readily  acquired  in  youth,  and  boys 
when  very  young  are  taught  the  languages,  yet  I  doubt 
the  propriety  of  this  early  devotion  to  heathen  classics  at 
the  expense  of  Christian  English  literature.  I  am  not 
sorry  that  I  was  educated  in  classical  literature,  but  I  am 
sorry  that  I  was  not  first  well  grounded  in  my  vernacular. 

In  my  father's  academy,  it  being  the  first  institution  of 
learning  in  which  the  classics  were  taught  in  the  western 
country,  were  many  students  who  came  from  a  distance; 
and  among  the  number  were  the  Howes,  Robinsons,  and 
M'Nemar,  Dunlevy,  Welsh,  Steele,  and  Thompson,  all  of 
whom  became  Presbyterian  preachers.  Judges  Trimble 
and  Mills  were  educated  here,  and  several  students  who 
afterward  became  doctors  of  medicine.  Here  my  brother 
John  and  myself  studied  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages, 
and  mathematics. 

For  the  study  of  medicine  I  had,  I  confess,  but  little 
inclination.  My  heart  was  away  in  the  woods,  and  an 
Indian,  my  dog  and  gun  had  more  charms  for  me  than 
anatomy,  surgery,  and  physiology.  I  think  it  perfect 
folly  to  give  a  boy  any  trade  or  profession  for  which  he 
has  no  inclination.  However,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  diso- 
blige my  parents,  and  did  not  wish  to  be  a  mere  novice 
iu  any  thing,  I  bent  down  to  my  studies,  with  a  full  de- 
termination to  understand  the  theory  of  medicine,  though 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  115 

I  never  intended  to  practice  it.  My  recreations  were  with 
the  gun  in  the  woods,  or  the  gig  in  killing  fish  in  the  river, 
which  abounded  with  perch,  buffalo,  pike,  cat-fish,  and 
sturgeon.  At  all  the  sports  of  those  days  I  considered 
myself  a  full  hand.  I  spent  several  months  in  the  woods 
surveying  Congress  lands  for  Thomas  Worthington,  Esq., 
afterward  governor  of  the  state. 

I  finished  my  medical  studies  in  the  fall  of  1800,  and 
was  admitted  to  practice.  In  connection  with  my  precep- 
tor, I  visited  and  prescribed  for  many  sick,  and  have  vanity- 
enough  to  believe  that,  had  I  continued,  I  would  have 
made  a  respectable  physician  for  the  times.  As  I  before 
remarked,  not  feeling  at  home  in  this  profession,  but  being 
desirous  of  taking  to  the  woods,  I  joined  with  three  others 
and  purchased  a  drove  of  fat  cattle,  and  we  started,  in 
October,  with  them  for  the  Detroit  market.  There  were 
no  roads,  and  we  had  to  follow  Indian  paths  from  one  vil- 
lage to  another.  We  took  the  Indian  path  by  Westfall  to 
Franklinton,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Scioto,  which  has 
long  since  been  outrivaled  by  the  city  of  Columbus,  and 
has  gone  into  decay.  Here  we  found  several  houses  built 
by  Dixon,  Turner,  Foose,  Skidmore,  and  a  few  others. 
In  consequence  of  the  flies,  which  were  exceedingly  nu- 
merous and  troublesome  to  the  cattle  in  the  woods,  we 
remained  here  till  November. 

After  leaving  Franklinton  we  took  the  path  to  Dela- 
ware, where  were  the  famous  sulphur  springs,  which  we 
reached  the  first  day.  Here,  right  around  these  ancient 
springs,  we  were  obliged  to  sit  on  our  horses  all  night  to 
prevent  the  cattle  from  running  back.  The  next  day  we 
reached  the  Sandusky  plains.  This  was  a  rainy  day,  and 
in  riding  through  the  woods  we  were  as  wet  as  if  we  had 
Deen  in  the  river;  and  in  addition  to  all  this,  we  had  noth- 
ing to  eat  but  a  little  corn-bread.  We  were  chilled  with 
tjje  rain,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  we  could 


116  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

start  a  fire.  My  companions  despaired  and  began  to  wish 
themselves  at  home.  My  motto  being  nil  desperandum,  \ 
rallied  them,  and  persevering  in  hope  against  hope,  at 
length  the  spark  from  the  smitten  steel  took  effect,  and 
none  but  those  placed  in  the  same  situation  could  appreci- 
ate our  joy,  kindled  by  the  light  of  a  blazing  fire.  Here, 
on  the  waters  of  the  Scioto,  we  passed  a  tolerably-com 
fortable  night.  The  next  day  we  resumed  our  journey, 
and  passed  on  through  Upper  Sandusky..  Honey  creek, 
and  Lower  Sandusky,  till  we  reached  the  rapids  of  the 
Maumee,  where  we  found  a  large  Indian  village.  The 
inhabitants  of  this  town  had  just  finished  their  great  fall 
dance  and  a  drunken  frolic,  and  were  making  preparations 
to  start  to  their  hunting-grounds;  Being  hungry  and  half 
starved,  they  demanded  of  us  a  steer  for  the  privilege  of 
driving  through  their  country.  I  told  them  no,  they  could 
not  have  it,  as  the  cattle  were  for  the  soldiers  at  Detroit. 
At  this  one  of  the  Indians  raised  his  rifle  to  shoot  a  steer, 
but  riding  instantly  between  him  and  the  animal,  I  told 
him  if  he  shot  I  would  send  a  force  of  soldiers  after  him 
from  Detroit,  and  he  should  be  taken  there  to  answer  for 
his  conduct.  This  had  the  desired  effect,  and  we  passed 
on  unmolested.  Continuing  our  journey,  after  a  period 
of  two  weeks  and  five  days,  we  arrived,  with  our  drove, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Rouge,  five  miles  below  Detroit, 
and  in  a  few  hours  we  found  the  end  of  our  journey. 
The  first  thing,  on  arriving,  was  to  effect  a  sale  of  the  cat- 
tie.  After  six  weeks,  during  all  which  time  we  lodged  in 
a  Frenchman's  barn,  we  succeeded  in  selling  our  drove  to 
a  contractor  of  the  army  for  a  draft  on  the  Government. 
Soon  after  the  sale  we  left  for  home,  with  provisions  suffi- 
cient to  last  us  till  we  reached  the  Maumee  rapids.  Hav- 
ing arrived  at  this  place,  and  our  stock  of  provisions  be- 
ing exhausted,  we  found  it  impossible  to  purchase  any; 
and  taking  a  string  of  corn,  on  which  we  subsisted,  to- 


REV.    JAMES    B.    EINLEY.  117 

gether  with  some  hazel-nuts,  for  two  days,  we  arrived  at 
Lower  Sandusky.  At  this  place  we  purchased  of  Whfta- 
ker  a  few  quarts  of  flour  and  the  half  of  a  small  deer.  A 
short  time  before  night  we  reached  Honey  creek,  and  con- 
cluded to  stay  there  till  morning.  While  my  companions 
were  engaged  in  disposing  of  the  horses  for  the  night,  1 
kindled  a  fire  and  peeled  some  linn  bark,  and  mixed  up 
some  flour  to  make  what  was  called  stick  bread.  This 
backwoods  bread  is  made  by  peeling  the  bark  off  a  stick, 
then  wrapping  the  dough  around  it  and  turning  it  round 
before  the  fire,  one  end  of  the  stick  being  in  the  ground. 
On  this  we  made  our  evening's  repast. 

A  short  time  after  dark  an  Indian  ran  by  our  camp  in 
great  haste.  His  silence  and  conduct  excited  our  suspi- 
cions that  all  was  not  right.  As  we  had  driven  our  stock 
to  Detroit,  it  might  be  supposed,  by  the  Indians,  who  were 
aware  of  this  fact,  that  we  might  have  money,  and  this, 
together  with  our  horses,  might  be  an  object  with  some  ol 
the  desperadoes  that  infested  the  Sanduskies.  After  we 
had  partaken  of  our  suppers,  we  caught  our  horses  and 
took  the  path  for  Upper  Sandusky.  Pursuing  our  journey 
till  midnight  we  came  upon  the  camp  of  the  Indian.  He 
was  much  frightened  at  first,  but  he  soon  became  com- 
posed, and  we  tarried  all  night  together.  The  next. day 
we  resumed  our  journey,  and,  after  passing  through 
Franklinton,  in  a  few  days  arrived  safe  at  home. 

In  contrasting  the  present  with  the  past,  no  one  can 
fail  to  see  what  were  the  difficulties  and  dangers  which 
the  early  pioneers  encountered  in  traversing  the  country, 
and  the  courage  and  perseverance  which  were  necessary 
in  the  various  departments  of  life.  Then  there  were  no 
roads  or  means  of  transportation,  and  it  took  us  nearly 
two  months  to  perform  the  journey.  Now,  by  railroad 
car  and  steamer,  a  drove  of  cattle  could  be  transported 
in  as  many  days  from  Cincinnati  to  D(  troit,  with  greater 


118  AUTOBIOGRATHr    OF 

facility.  No  one  can  read  the  discovery  and  settlement 
of  this  new  country  without  being  deeply  interested.  In 
reading  of  the  adventurous  struggles  of  the  bold  and 
hardy  pioneers,  an  American  becomes  a  party  in  all  the 
thrilling  scenes  of  border  life.  While  contemplating  the 
dangers  of  the  wilderness,  the  terrors  of  savage  war,  the 
want  and  distress  through  which  they  passed,  he  is  filled 
with  admiration  at  their  self-denial,  and  the  perseverance 
which  characterized  them  in  surmounting  the  obstacles, 
enduring  the  hardships,  and  braving  the  dangers  to  which 
they  were  exposed,  that  they  might  turn  this  unbroken 
wilderness  into  fruitful  fields  and  gardens,  and  transmit  to 
posterity  the  inestimable  blessings  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty.  The  pious  mind  can  not  fail  to  see  a  Divine  hand 
overruling  and  conducting  the  whole.  The  people  of  the 
United  States  have  more  reason  to  be  thankful  to  Gou 
than  any  other  people;  for  "he  hath  not  dealt  so  with  any 
nation." 


EEV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  3J9 


CHAPTER?. 

BACKWOODS    BIOGRAPHY. 

If  history  hi  philosophy  teaching  by  example,  biog- 
raphy furnishes  the  examples  which  history  records.  ] 
have  already  alluded  to  some  of  the  early  pioneers,  and 
shall  continue  to  weave  into  my  narrative  biographical 
sketches  of  such  distinguished  individuals  of  my  times 
as  I  shall  deem  most  interesting  to  my  readers. 

Captain  Cassaday,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken, 
was  a  native  of  Pennsylvania,  and  among  the  first  intrepid 
adventurers  to  the  cane-lands  of  Kentucky.  He  was  a 
stout,  well-formed  man,  and  a  valiant  soldier.  He  settled 
about  two  miles  from  Stockton's  Station,  near  where  the 
town  of  Flemingsburg  now  stands.  The  place  was  called 
Cassaday's  Station.  At  one  time  he  was  taken  prisoner 
by  the  Indians.  When  a  boy  I  have  often  heard  him 
relate  the  circumstances  connected  with  his  captivity  and 
escape.  One  day,  while  hunting  in  the  woods,  a  party 
of  Indians  closed  on  him  by  surprise — for  they  were  in 
ambuscade — and  took  him  prisoner.  They  considered 
him  a  great  prize ;  and,  taking  him  across  the  Ohio  river, 
they  traveled,  without  stopping,  two  days  in  the  wilder- 
ness. Having  selected  a  place  where  to  camp,  they  tied 
him  to  a  tree ;  and,  leaving  him  in  care  of  an  old  Indian 
and  some  lads,  they  started  out  on  a  hunting  expedition. 
By  some  means  he  succeeded  in  getting  his  hands  loose, 
and,  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  old  Indian  and  the  boys, 
he  next  relieved  himself  of  the  tugs  which  were  round 
bis  waist.     The  evening   shades  were  gathering  around 


l'jO  AtJTOBtOGftAPllY    OF 

the  earth,  and  while  the  boys  were  picking  up  sticks  fat 
the  fire,  and  the  old  Indian,  wearied  with  fatigue,  was 
nodding  on  his  seat,  Cassaday  bounded  from  the  tree, 
seized  a  gun  and  pouch,  and  before  they  had  time  to 
recover  from  their  surprise,  was  lost  to  sight  in  the  depths 
of  the  forest.  The  alarm  was  given;  and  the  Indians 
returning,  and  finding  their  prisoner  gone,  started  off  in 
the  direction  he  had  taken.  He  knew  his  enemies  could 
not  be  far  off,  and  would  soon  be  on  his  track.  To  elude 
their  pursuit,  he  struck  off  in  a  northerly  direction,  which 
was  in  a  contrary  direction  from  home.  When  night 
came  on  he  changed  his  course  toward  the  Ohio  river. 
He  heard  in  the  distance  the  Indians  on  his  track,  and 
the  dismal  howl  of  the  Indian  bloodhound,  which  was 
scenting  out  his  way.  The  chase  was  continued  till  late 
at  night,  and  he  imagined  again  and  again  that  his 
enemy  was  just  upon  him.  Seeing  a  stream  which  ran 
in  a  southerly  direction,  he  plunged  into  it,  and,  wading 
in  its  bed  for  some  distance,  crossed  to  the  other  bank, 
following  it  down  some  distance,  when  he  would  plunge 
in  again,  and  continue  wading  down  the  stream.  This 
he  did  to  elude  the  scent  of  the  dog,  and  it  was  the 
only  thing  that  could  have  saved  him.  The  pursuit  was 
kept  up  all  night,  and  the  next  day  till  evening,  when,  to 
his  great  relief,  he  reached  the  Ohio  river,  into  which, 
without  a  moment's  thought,  he  plunged,  and  commenced 
swimming  for  the  other  shore.  Before  he  reached  the 
middle  of  the  stream  his  strength,  which  had  already 
been  taxed  to  its  utmost,  began  to  fail,  and  he  began  (o 
despair  of  ever  being  able  to  reach  the  Kentucky  shore. 
A  thought  of  home  and  friends  inspired  him,  however, 
with  new  courage,  and  he  redoubled  his  exertions.  The 
gun,  which  he  had  tied  to  his  head,  was  pressing  him 
down ;  his  strokes  became  less  frequent  and  more  feeble, 
and  he  was  about  resigning  himself  to  a  watery  grave, 


UEV.    JA.MES    B.    FINLEl'.  121 

when  it  occurred  to  him  that  perhaps  the  water  was  not 
over  his  head.  Accordingly  he  let  his  feet  descend,  and 
to  his  great  joy  he  found  the  water  only  up  to  his 
shoulders,  and,  after  resting  a  short  time,  he  was  enabled 
to  wade  out  to  the  beach.  When  he  reached  the  shore 
he  was  completely  exhausted,  and  he  sought  a  place  for 
rest  and  safety.  Worn  down  with  fatigue,  and  having 
had  no  sleep  nor  food  for  the  last  two  days,  it  was  not 
long  till  he  fell  into  a  profound  slumber.  When  he  awoke 
in  the  morning  his  limbs  were  so  stiff  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  he  could  move  them.  He,  however,  arose  from 
his  resting-place,  and,  after  seeking  for  something  to  sat- 
isfy the  cravings  of  appetite,  he  journeyed  toward  home, 
which  he  reached  in  three  days. 

He  was  an  active  defender  of  the  frontier  settlers,  a 
brave  man,  a  valuable  citizen,  beloved  and  respected  by 
all.  He  was  subsequently  chosen  to  represent  the  county 
where  he  resided  in  the  Legislature  of  the  state — a  duty 
which  he  performed  with  credit  to  himself  and  satisfac- 
tion to  his  constituents. 

Mercer  Beason,  another  pioneer  of  those  times,  was 
one  of  our  spies.  He  was  a  descendant  of  the  family  of 
Beasons  who  settled  at  an  early  day  near  the  foot  of 
Laurel  Hill,  where  they  laid  out  the  village  of  Beason- 
town,  now  known  as  Uniontown.  He  was  an  active,  fear- 
less young  man,  above  the  medium  stature.  Bold  and 
daring,  he  traversed  the  wilderness,  encountering  its 
dingers  and  hardships  with  an  undaunted  spirit.  Many 
were  the  hazardous  undertakings  and  perilous  adven- 
tures of  which  he  was  the  hero.  He  was  the  pride  of 
his  country.  His  fame  spread  far  and  wide,  and  his 
daring  deeds  struck  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  foe. 
He  was  one  of  nature's  warriors;  reared  among  the 
mountains,  and  breathing  the  wild  air  of  liberty,  his 
spirit  soared,  aloft,  unfettered  and  free,  as  the  eagle  of 

11 


122  AtJTOBlOGRAPHY    OlT 

tfi  Alieghanies.  But,  alas!  the  spoiler  came,  and  thai 
gifted,  high-born  son  of  the  wildwood  fell  by  the  shaft  of 
the  demon  intemperance.  Like  Death  itself,  this  demon 
loves  a  shining  mark ;  and  who  does  not  weep  over  the 
early  graves  of  heroism,  genius,  and  learning,  which 
have  fallen  by  the  hand  of  this  fell  destroyer? 

Bazil  Williams  was  a  Virginian  by  birth,  but  was 
raised  in  Kentucky.  He  was  one  of  the  most  active 
men  of  his  age,  with  but  one  exception — the  incompar- 
able M'Cleland.  He  was  an  officer  in  Captain  Joseph 
Colvin's  volunteer  company  from  Bourbon  county,  which 
joined  the  army  of  General  Wayne.  Having  been  in 
many  skirmishes  with  the  Indians,  he  learned  their  vari- 
ous arts  and  stratagems,  and  hence  he  was  prepared 
to  do  effective  service  in  the  great  battle  on  the  Maumee. 
During  this  battle  he  was  shot  in  the  arm,  but  he  never 
ceased  fighting  till  the  battle  was  ended  and  the  victory 
achieved.  G.  Partee  was  also  wounded  in  the  thigh, 
but,  like  his  brave  officer,  he  fought  on  to  the  last  of  the 
conflict.  Williams  was  eminently  useful  as  a  spy,  and 
his  fleetness  of  foot  rendered  him  a  great  acquisition  in 
carrying  intelligence  from  one  part  of  the  country  to 
another.  It  was  said  of  him,  that  for  a  half  a  day's 
heat  he  could  outrun  any  horse  in  the  country,  and  it 
was  considered  useless  for  any  man  to  try  to  catch  him. 
It  would  seem,  from  the  diversities  of  natural  gifts  which 
were  possessed  by  the  early  pioneers,  that  they  had  been 
specially  designed  by  Providence  for  the  wants  and  neces- 
sities growing  out  of  the  border  wars. 

Duncan  M'Arthur  was  a  son  of  nature.  He  was  tall 
in  stature,  with  a  giant  frame.  His  hair  was  black  as  a 
raven,  and  his  eyes  dark  and  piercing.  When  excited 
there  was  an  unearthly  flash  in  his  fiery  eye  which  indi- 
cated a  keen  and  daring  spirit,  restless  and  fearless. 
When  1  first  knew  him,  in  1793,  he  was  quite  a  young 


REV.    JAMES    S.    FINLEY.  12b 

man,  and  was  employed  as  a  spy  in  company  with  Samue1 
Davis.  They  were  to  range  the  country  from  Limestone 
to  the  mouth  of  Big  Sandy.  In  their  excursions  they 
met  with  many  narrow  escapes.  In  1794  he,  with  Na- 
thaniel Beasley,  was  employed  as  a  spy  on  the  same 
ground,  and  they  were  often  in  great  jeopardy  of  their 
lives.  Traversing  the  dense  forests  that  lined  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio,  or  gliding  along  in  the  swift  canoe  over  its 
beautiful  waters,  with  naught  to  disturb  the  repose  of 
nature  but  the  scream  of  the  panther  or  the  yell  of  the 
savage,  as  he  would  be  startled  from  his  'camp  by  the 
dreaded  approach  of  the  white  man,  young  M'Arthur 
grew  up  to  manhood  inspired  with  the  wildness  of  the 
scenes  around  him,  and  disciplined  to  hardship  by  the 
toils  he  endured.  After  this  he  became  a  hunter  for 
General  Massie,  and  subsequently  a  deputy  surveyor  ot 
the  wild  Congress  lands.  He  finally  bought  up  warrants, 
and  located  the  land  himself,  till  he  became  immensely 
rich  as  a  landlord.  He  assisted  General  Massie  in  laying 
out  the  town  of  Chilicothe,  and  was  among  the  first 
settlers  of  that  ancient  metropolis.  He  held  many 'offices, 
both  of  a  military  and  civil  nature,  and  figured  largely  in 
the  history  of  the  western  country  during  his  day.  He 
was  a  member  of  the  state  Legislature,  several  times 
a  member  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  Brio- 
adier- General  of  the  North- western  army  during  the 
last  war,  and  Governor  of  the  state  of  Ohio.  He  was  a 
kind  neighbor  and  a  valuable  citizen.  A  poor  backwoods 
boy,  with  nothing  but  a  hunter's  dress  and  ritie,  he  rose, 
by  dint  of  indomitable  perseverance  and  courage,  from 
his  obscurity  to  fill  the  highest  offices  in  the  gift  of  hib 
countrymen. 

Colonel  John  M'Donald,  one  of  my  early  companions, 
was  of  Scotch  descent.  His  father  was  connected  with 
'.he  army  of  the  Revolution  from  its  first  organization  up 


124  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    Ofr 

to  the  year  1780.  John  was  born  in  Northumberland 
county,  on  the  28th  of  January,  1775.  His  father  crossed 
the  Mountains  with  his  family  in  1780,  and  settled  at  a 
place  called  Mingo  Bottom,  three  miles  below  the  pres- 
ent site  of  Steubenville.  The  Ohio  river  was  then  the 
extreme  frontier,  constituting  the  dividing  line  between 
the  white  and  red  man.  No  line,  however,  was  sufficient 
to  form  a  barrier  against  the  invasions  of  both  parties. 
The  white  man  was  as  frequently  the  aggressor  as  the 
Ind'an,  and  many  were  the  scenes  of  suffering,  carnage, 
and  massacre  witnessed  along  this  border  line. 

My  young  friend  was  reared  amid  all  the  dangers  of  a 
border  war.  In  the  year  1789  his  father  removed  to 
Washington,  Ky.,  where  we  were  then  residing,  and  soon 
after  their  arrival  my  acquaintance  with  young  M'Donald 
commenced.  Simon  Kenton  resided  here  also  at  that 
time.  I  have  already  given  a  sketch  of  his  life,  but  can 
not  forbear  adding,  that,  although  he  could  neither  read 
nor  write,  he  was  regarded  as  the  prince  of  the  pioneers 
of  this  region  of  country.  Bravery  and  daring  courage 
were  considered  more  essential  elements  of  greatness  in 
those  days  than  learning,  or  wealth,  or  dignified  titles. 
Kenton  had  a  pleasant  countenance  and  a  sweet  voice,  yet 
of  great  compass  and  power.  Unlike  Daniel  Boone,  he 
was  social  in  his  manners.  When  engaging  in  battle  he 
was  prudent  and  cautious,  but  when  the  fight  began  he 
was  bold  and  daring  to  excess.  In  the  tumuft  of  battle 
his  clear,  manly  voice  would  roll  over  the  combatants, 
like  thunder,  inspiring  his  men  with  courage,  and  striking 
dismay  into  the  hearts  of  his  foes.  He  was  the  teacher 
and  captain  of  all  the  young  men  and  boys  in  this  part  of 
the  country.  He  was  a  master-spirit,  and  the  prototype 
of  young  M'Donald. 

The  boys  of  those  days  were  early  brought  into  serv- 
ice ;  and  as  soon  as  they  could  hold  up  a  rifle  at  off  hand, 


KEV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  12S 

lake  off  a  gun-lock  and  clean  it,  taking  it  apart  and  oiling 
it,  and  then  putting  it  together  again,  were  ranked  with 
the  hunters  and  soldiers  of  the  day.  It  is  almost  incred- 
ible to  relate  the  intrepid  and  desperate  daring  of  the 
feats  performed  by  mere  boys.  I  will  relate  an  instance 
which  occurred  with  two  boys  with  whom  I  was  well 
acquainted.  They  were  in  the  woods  hunting  the  cows. 
It  was  in  the  fall  of  the  year ;  and  as  hickory-nuts  were 
very  plentiful,  they  concluded  to  gather  some  and  take 
them  home.  While  thus  eno^o-ed  two  Indians  came 
upon  them,  and  took  them  prisoners.  With  their  prize 
they  started  off,  traveling  all  night  and  the  next  day.  At 
evening  they  stopped  to  camp.  After  taking  their  even- 
ing repast  they  made  the  two  boys  lie  down  between 
them.  The  eldest  kept  awake  till  all  the  company  were 
locked  in  the  fast  embrace  of  sleep.  He  then  quietly 
awakened  his  brother,  and  they  stole  softly  from  their 
resting-place.  The  elder  brother  then  took  a  gun  from 
one  of  the  Indians  and  a  tomahawk  from  the  other. 
Placing  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  at  the  head  of  one  of  the 
Indians,  he  told  his  brother  that  the  moment  he  should 
strike  the  other  Indian  he  should  pull  the  trigger.  The 
deadly  weapon  gleamed  in  the  light  of  the  watch-fire, 
and  in  an  instant  was  buried  deep  into  the  skull  of  the 
savage,  while  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle  sent  the  death- 
dealing  ball  into  the  brains  of  his  companion.  The  one 
that  had  been  tomahawked  bounded  and  fell  into  the  fire. 
The  boys  then  made  their  escape,  and,  taking  the  Indian 
trail,  they  proceeded  toward  home,  which  in  due  time 
they  reached  in  safety.  A  party  started  out  with  the 
eldest  to  visit  the  scene  of  slaughter,  and  found  the 
Indians  dead  as  reported.  The  name  of  these  boys  was 
Johnson.  They  grew  up  to  be  useful  members  of  society, 
and  joined  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church — the  eldest 
being  a  steward  and  the  youngest  a  local  preacher. 


126  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

The  first  excursion  of  my  friend  M'Donald  was.  ta*en 
with  Kenton.  Three  men  from  near  Washington  went  out 
on  a  hunting  expedition,  and  encamped  on  the  waters 
of  Bracken,  about  ten  miles  from  home.  While  they 
were  out  hunting  a  party  of  Indians  came  upon  their 
camp,  and  placed  themselves  in  ambush,  to  waylay  the 
hunters  on  their  return  at  night.  The  names  of  two 
of  the  hunters  were  Dan  Figgans  and  Josiah  Wood* 
the  name  of  the  other  is  forgotten.  It  was  late  when 
the  party  returned.  As  they  were  preparing  their  supper 
the  Indians  crept  up  stealthily,  and  fired,  killing  Wood 
and  the  one  whose  name  is  forgotten.  Figgans,  being 
unhurt,  fled  for  his  life.  The  Indians  started  in  pursuit, 
with  the  most  hideous  yells.  The  race  was  most  fear- 
fully kept  up,  but  Figgans  distanced  his  pursuers,  and  at 
midnight  reached  Washington,  where  he  alarmed  his 
friends  at  Kenton's  Station.  This  bold  warrior  immedi- 
ately mounted  his  horse,  and  in  a  short  time,  having 
raised  a  company,  started  in  pursuit.  Young  M'Donald 
was  anxious  to  accompany  them ;  but  his  father,  thinking 
him  too  young,  being  but  fifteen  years  of  age,  to  be  of 
any  service,  refused  his  consent.  He  was  not,  however, 
to  be  deterred ;  so  stealing  his  father's  rifle  and  horse, 
he  started  at  full  speed,  and  soon  overtook  the  company. 
They  arrived  at  the  place  about  sunrise,  and  a  most 
shocking  scene  presented  itself  to  their  view.  One  of 
the  men  had  been  scalped,  and  thrown  into  the  fire, 
where  he  was  nearly  consumed ;  the  other  had  also  beei> 
scalped,  and  cut  to  pieces  with  the  Indian  hatchet.  The 
party  proceeded  to  the  mournful  work  of  depositing  their 
remains  in  the  ground ;  and  ascertaining  by  the  tracks  of 
the  horses  that  the  Indians  had  directed  their  course 
for  the  Ohio  river,  they  started  after  them.  When  they 
arrived  at  the  river,  they  found  that  the  Indians,  without 
wailing  a  moment,   had  plunged   in   and  swam   across. 


EEV.    JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  127 

thus  cutting  off  pursuit.  This  dreadful  sight  had  a  tend- 
ency somewhat  to  cool  the  ardor  of  the  youthful  warrior, 
who,  nevertheless,  would  have  been  glad  of  an  opportu- 
nity for  taking  revenge  upon  the  savage  foe. 

From  this  time  M'Donald  was  constantly  engaged  with 
scouting,  hunting,  and  surveying  parties.  In  the  spring 
of  1792  he  joined  General  Massie's  settlement  at  Man- 
chester, twelve  miles  above  Maysville.  This  was  the 
third  settlement  on  the  north-west  side  of  the  Ohio  river, 
above  Cincinnati,  or  Losantiville,  as  the  town  was  called. 
This  infant  settlement,  together  with  the  lives  of  all  in 
the  station,  was  in  constant  danger.  Many  and  exciting 
were  the  scenes  by  which  they  were  surrounded.  Some- 
times they  were  deeply  depressed,  and  anon,  when  danger 
was  over,  their  spirits  rose  exulting  at  the  trials  and  con- 
flicts through  which  they  had  passed.  A  report  would 
sometimes  come  in,  that  one  of  their  number  had  fallen 
by  the  hand  of  the  enemy,  which  would  cast  a  shade  of 
sadness  and  gloom  on  all  hearts;  then  again  the  intelli- 
gence that  the  bold  and  daring  hunter  had  captured  the 
foe,  would  inspire  them  with  courage.  Thus  life  was 
made  up  of  constant  alternations  of  hope  and  despond- 
ency. This  constant  warfare  made  the  early  settlers  so 
familiar  with  scenes  of  blood  and  carnage,  that  they  be- 
came, in  a  measure,  indifferent  spectators,  and  at  the  same 
time  reckless  and  fearless  of  all  danger.  Scenes  of  hor- 
ror that  would  have  congealed  the  blood  in  the  veins  of 
those  unaccustomed  to  them,  would  scarcely  move  the  heart 
of  the  hardy  pioneer. 

In  the  spring  of  1794  Colonel  M'Donald  and  his 
brother  Thomas  joined  General  Wayne's  army  as  rang- 
ers, or  spies.  The  company  of  rangers  consisted  of  sev- 
enty-two, of  whom  Captain  Ephraim  Kibby  was  com- 
mander. He  was  a  true  Jersey  blue,  fully  adequate  to 
any    emergency  growing   out    of   his    highly   lesponsibie 


128  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

position.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  rangers  to  traverse  the 
Indian  country  in  every  direction  in  advance  of  the  army. 
This  was  not  only  a  toilsome,  but  a  dangerous  work. 
The  company  was  divided  into  small  detachments, 
which  started  out  in  every  direction,  and,  after  scouring 
the  country,  returned  and  made  their  report  to  head- 
quarters. 

The  history  of  these  times  has  been  so  often  told  that  I 
do  not  consider  it  necessary  to  enter  into  any  detail  in 
regard  to  the  many  adventures  connected  with  the  rang- 
ers, and  shall  only  record  what  has  never  yet  been  made 
a  matter  of  public  history. 

Early  in  November  of  the  year  above  mentioned,  Mr. 
Lucas  Sullivan,  a  land-speculator  and  surveyor  from  Vir- 
ginia, collected  a  company  of  twenty-one  men  to  go  upon 
a  surveying  tour  into  the  Scioto  country.  This  was  a 
hazardous  undertaking.  Notwithstanding-  the  Indians  had 
been  severely  beaten  by  General  Wayne,  a  few  months 
previously,  yet  the  country  was  far  from  a  state  of  peace. 
Attached  to  this  company  were  three  surveyors  ;  namely, 
John  and  Nathaniel  Beasley,  and  Sullivan,  who  was  the 
chief.  Young  M'Donald  was  connected  with  this  com- 
pany. Every  man  carried  his  own  baggage  and  arms, 
consisting  of  a  rifle,  tomahawk,  and  scalping-knife.  While 
engaged  in  surveying,  the  hunters  would  go  in  advance 
as  spies,  and  the  surveyor,  chain-carriers,  and  marksmen 
would  follow  in  line,  the  whole  being  brought  up  by  the 
pack-horse  and  the  man  who  cooked  for  the  company.  It 
was  his  business  to  keep  a  good  look-out,  so  that  the 
enemy  should  not  attack  them  in  the  rear.  In  this  mili- 
tary manner  was  most  of  the  surveying  in  Ohio  and  Ken- 
tucky performed.  They  did  not  carry  any  piovisions  with 
ihem,  but  depended  on  their  rifles  for  a  living,  which  sel 
dom  failed  to  afford  them  an  abundant  supply. 

Having  taken  Todd's  trace,  they  pursued  their  journey 


HEY.    JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  120 

till  they  came  to  Paint  creek,  at  the  old  crossings.  From 
thence  they  proceeded  to  old  Chilicothe,  now  Frankfort, 
and  thus  on  to  Deer  creek,  where  they  encamped  at  the 
mouth  of  Hay  run.  In  the  morning  Sullivan,  M'Donald, 
and  Murray  went  down  to  the  mouth  of  Deer  creek  with 
the  intention  of  taking  its  meanderings  back  to  the  camp. 
They  had  not  proceeded  more  than  a  hundred  rods  "till  a 
flock  of  turkeys  came  flying  toward  them.  M'Donald  and 
Murray  being  on  the  bank  of  the  creek,  near  to  a  pile  of 
drift-wood,  Murray,  without  reflecting  a  moment  that  the 
turkeys  must  have  been  driven  toward  them  by  some  per- 
sons, slipped  up  to  a  tree  and  shot  a  turkey.  He  then 
slipped  back,  and  as  there  were  more  turkeys  on  the  tree, 
M'Donald  slipped  up  to  the  position  left  by  his  compan- 
ion. Just  as  he  was  about  to  fire,  the  sharp  crack  of  a 
rifle  fell  on  his  ears,  and  turning  instantly  he  saw  poor 
Murray  fall  to  rise  no  more.  Looking  in  the  direction 
from  whence  the  messenger  of  death  came,  he  saw  sev- 
eral Indians  with  their  rifles  leveled  at  him.  Quick  as 
thought  he  sprang  over  the  bank  into  the  creek,  and  they 
fired  but  missed  him.  The  Indians  followed  hard  after 
him,  yelling  and  screaming  like  fiends.  Running  across 
the  bottom  he  met  Sullivan  and  three  others  of  the  com- 
pany. Sullivan  instantly  threw  away  his  compass  and 
clung  to  his  rifle.  Their  only  safety  was  in  rapid  flight, 
as  the  Indians  were  too  numerous  to  encounter.  As  they 
ran  the  Indians  fired  upon  them,  one  of  the  balls  striking 
Colvin's  cue  at  the  tie,  which  shocked  him  so  much  that 
he  thought  himself  mortally  wounded.  But  he  was  a 
brave  young  man,  and  being  fleet  of  foot,  he  ran  up  the 
creek  and  gave  the  alarm  at  the  camp,  stating  that  he  be- 
lieved all  were  killed  but  himself.  Those  at  camp  of 
course  fled  as  soon  as  possible.  M'Donald  and  his  party 
ran  across  the  bottom  to  the  high  land,  and  after  running 
three  miles   struck  a  prairie.     Casting  their  eye  ov$r  it, 

9 


130  AUTOKIOGRAI'IIY     OF 

they  saw  four  Indians  trotting  along  the  tiace.  Tltey 
I bought  of  running  round  the  prairie  and  heading  them, 
but  not  knowing  how  soon  those  in  pursuit  would  be  upon 
them,  and  perchance  they  would  get  between  two  fires, 
adopted  the  better  part  of  valor  and  concealed  themselves 
in  the  crass  till  the  Indians  were  out  of  sio;ht.  After 
remaining  there  for  some  time  they  went  to  the  camp  and 
found  it  deserted.  Just  as  they  were  about  to  leave,  one 
of  the  company  espied  a  note  stuck  in  the  end  of  a  split 
«tick,  to  this  effect,  "If  you  should  come,  follow  the  trail." 
It  was  then  sundown,  and  they  knew  they  would  not  be 
able  to  follow  the  trail  after  dark.  When  night  came  on, 
they  steered  their  course  by  starlight. 

They  had  traveled  a  distance  of  eight  or  nine  miles.  It 
was  a  cold,  dreary  night,  and  the  leaves  being  frozen,  the 
sound  of  their  footsteps  could  be  heard  some  distance. 
All  at  once  they  heard  something  break  and  run  as  if  it 
were  a  gang  of  buffaloes.  At  this  they  halted  and  re- 
mained silent  for  some  time.  After  a  while  the  fugitives 
could  be  heard  coming  back  softly.  Supposing  that  it 
might  be  their  companions,  M'Donald  and  M'Cormick 
concluded  to  creep  up  slowly  and  see.  They  advanced 
till  they  could  hear  them  cracking  hazel-nuts  with  their 
teeth.  They  also  heard  them  whisper  to  one  another,  but 
could  not  tell  whether  they  were  Indians  or  white  men. 
They  cautiously  returned  to  Sullivan,  and  the  company, 
after  deliberation,  finally  concluded  to  call,  which  they 
did,  and  found,  to  their  joy,  that  it  was  their  own  friends 
who  fled  from  them.  They  had  mutual  rejoicings  at 
meeting  again,  but  poor  Murray  waa  left  a  prey  to  the 
Indians  and  wolves.  They  now  commenced  their  journey 
nomeward,  and  after  three  days'  travel,  arrived  at  Man- 
chester. 

This  disastrous  enterprise,  however,  did  not  deter  oth- 
ers from  trying  their  fortunes.     Soon  after  this,  Genera) 


REV.    JAMES     B.    FINLE1  3  3.1 

Nathaniel  Massie  collected  a  party  of  twenty-eight  men, 
of  whom  M'Donald  was  one,  to  take  a  surveying  tour  on 
the  head  waters  of  the  Little  Miami  and  Paint  creek.  He 
took  with  him  three  assistant  surveyors,  namely,  Peter 
Lee,  William  O'Banion,  and  Nathaniel  Beasley,  men  of 
tried  30iirage,  and  able  to  encounter  any  hardships.  None 
but  men  of  this  stamp  were  adapted  to  such  an  enter- 
prise, and  hence  the  company  was  composed  of  such.  A 
surveying  expedition  incurred  more  toil  and  danger  than 
a  scouting  party  or  a  regular  army,  the  latter  particularly, 
as  it  was  always  embodied  and  better  prepared  for  de- 
fense.. The  surveying  company  was  divided  into  bands, 
and  each  had  its  particular  duties  to  perform;  hence  it 
was  impossible  to  be  always  on  the  guard  against  the 
wily  and  revengeful  Indian. 

General  Massie  was  a  man  of  great  energy  of  charac- 
ter, a  brave  and  daring  spirit  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived.  He  was  honest  and  upright  in  all  his  dealings 
with  his  fellow-men.  He  was  not  only  just,  but  gener- 
ous to  a  fault,  the  poor  man's  friend,  the  widow  and  or- 
phan's benefactor.  Pinching  want,  with  haggard  mien 
and  downcast  eyes,  never  went  pining  from  his  door. 
His  house  was  the  home  of  hospitality,  and  an  asylum 
for  the  distressed.  But,  alas!  like  many  high-souled, 
gifted,  and  generous  men  of  all  times,  the  demon  Intem- 
perance marked  him  as  his  victim,  and 

"  Like  some  ill-guided  bark,  well  built,  and  tall, 
That  angry  tides  cast  out  on  desert  shore," 

that  noble  spirit  was  wrecked.  He  died  in  1813.  Having 
neglected  his  business,  which  was  in  great  confusion  at 
his  death,  his  heirs  reaped  but  little  benefit  from  his  great 
estate. 

Peter  Lee,  one  of  Massie's  surveyors,  was  a  native  of 
Mason  county,  Ky.  He  possessed  a  large  fortune,  and 
was  reputed  a  liberal  and  honest  man.     He  was  unosleu- 


132  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

tatious  in  all  his  demeanor,  and  much  respected  by  all 
who  knew  him.  He  remained  a  bachelor,  as  matrimony 
did  not  seem  to  have  sufficient  charms  to  lure  him  from 
the  path  of  single  biessedness.  If  to  some  it  is  not  given 
to  enjoy  this  estate,  they  may  excite  commiseration  for 
their  misfortune,  instead  of  condemnation  for  their  course. 

Nathaniel  Beasley,  the  youngest  of  the  surveyors,  has 
long  since  passed  away  from  the  ranks  of  the  living,  and 
been  numbered  with  the  dead.  He  served  his  country 
with  great  fidelity  in  many  responsible  stations.  He  was 
justice  of  the  peace,  county  commissioner,  and  represent- 
ative in  the  state  Legislature. 

In  the  war  of  1812  he  again  shouldered  his  rifle  in  his 
country's  cause,  as  commander  of  a  battalion  in  two  ex 
pedi lions.  He  had,  when  we  take  into  account  the  day  in 
which  he  lived,  and  the  training  which  he  received,  as 
tew  faults  as  any  man.  He  was  a  plain,  common-sense, 
self-taught,  and  self-made  man.  He  possessed  a  thor- 
ough business  capacity,  had  great  honesty  of  purpose, 
and  his  industry  and  perseverance  secured  for  him  the 
esteem  of  all  who  knew  him. 

William  O'Banion  was  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  and 
one  of  the  most  fiery  and  impetuous  spirits  old  Kentucky 
ever  sent  into  the  battle-field.  After  serving,  with  the 
greatest  fidelity  and  courage,  in  various  minor  grades  of 
rank  as  an  officer  in  the  army,' he  was  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant  in  the  United  States  army.  He  was 
in  the  battle  of  Tripoli  in  Africa,  and  the  first  man  that 
mounted  the  wall  of  a  fortified  town  near  Tripoli.  Since 
bis  return  from  Africa  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn  ai  y 
thing  concerning  his  history. 

Such  were  the  men  who  constituted  the  leaders  of 
the  expedition;  while  the  chain-carriers  and  marksmen 
were  all  well-tried  backwoods  hunters,  brought  up  amid 
the  perils  of  the  border  wars.     Without  beds,  tents,  or 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  133 

wagons,  the  ground  covered  with  snow,  and  the  weathei 
intensely  cold,  they  traversed  the  wilderness,  and,  gath- 
ering around  their  camp-fires,  after  the  toils  of  the  day, 
they  would  laugh,  and  sing,  and  talk  as  merrily  as  though 
at  a  backwoods  wedding. 

But  to  return  to  the  biography  of  my  friend  M' Donald. 
In  the  year  of  1799  he  was  married  to  Miss  Catharine 
Outwright,  and  in  1 802  removed  to  Poplar  Ridge  in  Ross 
county,  where  he  now  resides.  He  had  eight  daughter? 
and  one  son,  all  of  whom  obtained  respectable  positions 
in  society.  He  was  elected  several  times  a  justice  of  the 
peace ;  also  served  as  a  militia  officer,  being  captain,  ma- 
jor, lieutenant-colonel,  and  colonel.  When  the  war  of 
1812  broke  out,  he  enlisted  as  a  volunteer  in  the  first  reg- 
iment of  Ohio  volunteers,  and  received  the  appointment 
of  paymaster-general.  Immediately  on  the  receipt  of  this 
appointment,  he  went  to  Dayton,  the  place  of  general 
rendezvous  for  the  north-western  army,  and  was  subse- 
quently appointed  quarter-master  of  the  regiment,  and 
continued  to  perform  the  duties  of  both  offices  till  the 
surrender  of  the  army  by  General  Hull.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  winter  of  1812-13  he  received  the  appoint- 
ment of  captain  in  the  United  States  army,  but  did  not 
resign  his  commissions  in  the  militia.  In  July  following 
he  commanded  a  regiment  of  militia,  and  marched  to  the 
lake  country,  and  served  under  the  orders  of  General 
William  Henry  Harrison.  He  represented  his  county  in 
both  houses  of  the  state  Legislature.  This  young  man, 
reared  in  the  wilderness,  subjected  to  all  its  toils  and 
dangeis,  presented  a  specimen  of  manly  courage,  intel- 
lectual worth,  and  true  greatness,  worth  a  regiment  of 
West  Point  cadets,  and  an  example  to  all  young  men  of 
the  present  day.  I  have  been  familiarly  acquainted  with 
him  for  upward  of  half  a  century.  He  is  now,  like  my- 
self, in  the  sear  and  yellow  leaf  of  age,  and  soon  the  win- 


134  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

tery  winds  will  sweep  us  as  the  leaves  from  their  parent 
tree,  and  we  shall  be  gathered  to  our  fathers.  The  latter 
part  of  his  life  has  been  spent  in  promoting  the  benevo- 
lent enterprises  of  the  age,  such  as  temperance,  Sabbath 
schools,  etc.  His  life  has  been  one  of  excitement,  toil, 
and  conflict.  His  best  years  have  been  devoted  to  the 
interests  of  his  country,  and,  though  man  does  not,  may 
God  reward  him  for  his  conduct!  He  has  written  a  most 
interesting  and  reliable  history,  called  "Sketches  of  ih« 
West/' 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  13i 


CHAPTER  VI. 

TRAGICAL    OCCURRENCE — BRAVE    BACKWOODS    OJR1- 

The  dangers  to  which  the  early  inhabitants  of  the 
Scioto  Valley  were  exposed  made  their  appearance  on  the 
death  of  Captain  Herrod.  He  was  among  the  numbci 
of  those  who  raised  the  first  corn  in  the  prairie  below 
Chilicothe,  in  1796.  He  was  a  most  respectable  and  wor- 
thy man,  possessing  great  influence  in  the  country,  and 
beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  Having  removed  to  a 
farm  a  few  miles  west  of  Chilicothe,  which  he  was  en- 
gaged in  clearing,  an  incident  occurred,  which  created 
the  utmost  terror  and  alarm  in  the  whole  country,  and 
spread  consternation  and  dismay  wherever  the  sad  intel- 
ligence reached  the  sparse  and  scattered  population.  In 
the  spring  of  1803,  as  some  persons  were  hunting  in  the 
woods,  they  found  the  body  of  a  man  scalped  and  toma- 
hawked. This  was  recognized  as  the  body  of  Captain 
Herrod;  and  it  was  supposed,  from  the  manner  of  his 
death,  that  the  fearful  deed  had  been  perpetrated  by  the 
Indians.  It  was  also  supposed  that  the  Indians  ha.l 
recommenced  hostilities  on  the  whites.  The  treaty  of 
peace  concluded  by  General  Wayne  in  1795  had  remained 
undisturbed  up  to  this  time.  By  whom  or  for  what  pur- 
pose Captain  Herrod  was  thus  brutally  murdered,  has 
never  been  ascertained,  and  remains  wrapped  in  the  pro- 
foundest  mystery  to  this  day.  Various  were  the  conjec- 
tures at  the  time.  It  was  secretly  hinted,  and  by  some 
Hrmly  believed,  that  the  savage  deed  was  done  by  a 
white  man  who  had  been  an  unsuccessful  rival  candidate 


136  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

of  Captain  Herrod's,  for  the  office  of  captain  in  the  Ohio 
militia.  It  was  known  that  the  bitterest  envy  rankled  in 
his  heart  toward  Herrod,  and  it  was  supposed  that  he 
sought  to  cover  up  the  foul  deed  by  adopting  the  Indian 
mode  cf  human  slaughter.  ,  Whether  he  was  guilty  or 
not,  this  was  at  least  the  general  impression  among  the 
immediate  neighbors;  but,  as  no  evidence  of  guilt  was 
ever  sought  or  found  against  him,  he  was  allowed  to  pass 
without  being  taken.  On  the  other  hand,  as  little  faith 
had  been  placed  by  the  inhabitants  in  general  in  the 
treaty  of  the  Indians,  a  large  majority  were  disposed  to 
charge  the  deed  to  them,  and  the  death  of  Herrod  was 
regarded  as  the  forerunner  of  war.  The  account  of  his 
death,  as  if  borne  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  spread  with 
great  rapidity  all  over  the  Scioto  Valley,  and  the  excite- 
ment and  alarm  produced  among  the  citizens  was  most 
intense.  Whole  families,  from  five  to  fifteen  miles  apart, 
flocked  together  for  purposes  of  self-defense.  In  some 
places  block-houses  were  run  up,  and  preparations  for 
war  made  in  every  direction.  The  citizens  of  Chilicothe, 
though  in  the  center  of  population,  collected  together  for 
the  purpose  of  fortifying  the  town.  Sentinels  were  posted, 
and  a  vigilant  guard  kept,  day  and  night.  Rumor,  with 
her  overheated  and  affrighted  imagination,  and  her  thou- 
eand  tongues,  was  busily  engaged  in  spreading  her 
alarms.  At  one  time  it  was  reported  that  Captain  John, 
an  Indian  chief,  with  his  warriors,  had  killed  all  the 
inhabitants  of  Darby;  and  again,  that  other  settlements 
had  fallen  beneath  the  hand  of  the  savage  foe.  The 
inhabitants  living  on  the  north  fork  of  Paint  creek  were 
all  collected  at  Old  Town,  now  Frankfort,  and  among 
others  was  David  Wolf,  an  old  hunter,  a  man  of  wealth 
and  some  influence.  He  had  settled  on  the  north  fork, 
twenty  miles  above  Old  Town.  After  remaining  in  the 
town   several  days,  he  employed  two  men,  Williams  anc 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLE1  137 

ferguson,  to  go  with  him  to  his  farm,  with  a  view  of 
examining  into  the  condition  of  his  stock.  When  they 
had  proceeded  about  six  miles,  and  were  passing  through 
a  prairie,  they  saw  an  Indian  approaching  them  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  walking  in  the  same  path  over  which  they  were 
traveling.  On  a  nearer  approach  it  was  found  to  be  the 
Shawnee  chief  Waw-wil-a-way,  the  old  and  faithful  hun- 
ter of  General  Massie  during  his  surveying  tours,  and  an 
unwavering  friend  of  the  white  man.  He  was  a  sober, 
brave,  intelligent  man,  well  known  to  most  of  the  settlers 
in  the  country,  and  beloved  by  all  for  his  frank  and  gen- 
erous demeanor.  He  had  a  wife  and  two  sons,  who  were 
also  much  respected  by  their  white  neighbors  where  they 
resided,  near  the  falls  of  Paint  creek. 

Waw-wil-a-way  was  frequently  engaged  in  taking  wild 
game  and  skins  to  Old  Town,  for  the  purpose  of  exchang 
ing  them  for  such  articles  as  he  wanted.  He  had  left 
home  that  morning  on  foot  with  his  gun  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting  Frankfort,  and  meeting  the  company  before 
named,  he  approached  them  in  that  frank  and  friendly 
manner  which  always  characterized  his  intercourse  with 
his  white  brethren.  After  shaking  hands  with  them  most 
cordially,  he  inquired  into  the  health  of  each  and  their 
families.  The  salutation  being  over,  Wolf  asked  him  if 
he  would  not  trade  guns ;  and  the  chief  assenting,  an 
exchange  was  made  for  the  purpose  of  examining  previous 
to  the  ratification  of  the  bargain.  While  this  was  going 
on,  Wolf,  being  on  horseback,  unperceived  by  Waw-wil-a- 
way,  opened  the  pan,  and  threw  oift  the  priming,  and, 
handing  it  back,  said  he  believed  he  would  not  trade 
with  him. 

Wolf  and  Williams   then  dismounted,  and   asked  the 
chief  if  the  Indians  had  commenced  war. 

His  answer  was,  "No,  no!  the  Indians  and  white  men 
are  now  all  one,  all  brothers." 


138  AUTOBIOGEATIIY    OF 

Wolf  then  asked  if  he  had  heard  that  the  Indians  had 
killed  Captain  Herrod. 

The  chief,  much  surprised  at  the  intelligence,  replied, 
that  he  had  not  heard  it,  and  seemed  to  doubt  its 
correctness. 

Wolf  assured  him  that  it  was  true. 

"May  be  whisky,  too  much  drink,  was  the  cause  of  the 
quarrel." 

Wolf  replied,  "Herrod  had  no  quarrel  with  the  Indi- 
ans ;  nor  is  i'  known  by  whom  he  was  killed,  or  for  what 
cause." 

Waw-wil-a-way  said,  "May  be  some  bad  white  man 
kill  Captain  Herrod." 

The  conversation  then  ended,  and  the  party  making 
preparation  to  resume  their  journey,  the  chief  again  shook 
hands  with  all  in  the  same  friendly  manner  as  at  greeting. 
After  he  had  proceeded  on  his  way  about  ten  steps, 
Wolf  raised  his  rifle,  and,  taking  deliberate  aim  at  the 
Indian's  back,  fired,  and  shot  him  through  the  body. 
Waw-wil-a-way  did  not  fall,  although  he  knew  his  wound 
must  prove  mortal;  nor  did  he  submit  to  die  as  most 
men  would  have  done  in  similar  circumstances. 

The  illustrious  Julius  Caesar,  one  of  the  most  renowned 
warriors  of  imperial  Rome,  when  attacked  by  superior 
numbers  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  terrified  at  the  approach 
tf  death,  muffled  his  face  in  his  cloak,  and  received  the 
deadly  thrust  of  Brutus;  but  the  brave  Shawnee  chief,  in 
the  wild  prairie  of  his  fathers,  which  had  been  invaded 
by  the  white  man,  turned  upon  his  ungenerous  and  cow- 
ardly assailants,  determined  to  sell  his  life  at  as  dear 
a  rate  as  his  hopeless  condition  would  admit,  raised  his 
unerring  rifle,  and  leveled  it  at  Wolf,  who  jumped  behind 
his  horse.  Williams's  horse  becoming  frightened,  and 
plunging  about,  left  his  body  unprotected,  and  the  uneir 
ing  lire  of  Waw-wil-a-way's  rifle  told  its  tale  of  death. 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  139 

Williams  was  shot  through  the  bodv,  and  fell  dead  in  the 
path.  The  Indian  then  clubbed  his  gun,  and,  in  a  state 
of  desperation,  rushed  upon  Wolf,  and  with  one  blow 
felled  him  to  the  earth.  Recovering,  and  being  strong 
and  active,  he  closed  upon  the  Indian,  and  made  an  effort 
to  seize  him  by  the  long  tuft  of  hair  on  the  top  of  his 
head.  He  had  a  shawl  tied  around  his  head  in  the  form 
of  a  turban,  and  this  being  seized  by  Wolf,  instead  of  the 
hair,  he  gave  a  violent  jerk  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
him  to  the  ground.  The  shawl  giving  way,  Wolf  fell  on 
his  back.  At  this  the  Indian  drew  his  scalping-knife, 
and  made  a  thrust  at  Wolf,  who,  seeing  his  danger,  and 
throwing  up  his  feet  to  ward  off'  the  blow,  received  the 
blade  of  the  knife  in  his  thigh.  In  the  scuffle  the  handle 
broke  off,  and  left  the  whole  blade  fast  in  the  wound.  Ai 
the  same  time  Wolf  made  a  stroke  at  the  Indian,  the 
blade  of  his  knife  entering  the  breast-bone.  Just  then 
Ferguson  came  to  Wolf's  assistance;  but  the  Indian, 
taking  up  Wolf's  gun,  struck  him  on  the  head  a  most 
fearful  blow,  and  brought  him  to  the  earth,  laying  bare 
his  skull  from  the  crown  to  the  ear.  Here  the  sanguinary 
conflict  ended;  and  so  rapid  was  the  work* of  bloodshed 
that  all  was  accomplished  in  less  time  than  I  have  taken 
to  relate  it. 

When  the  deadly  strife  ended,  the  foes  of  Waw-wii-a- 
way  were  all  lying  at  his  feet,  and  had  he  been  able  to  have 
followed  up  his  blows  he  would  have  dispatched  them, 
for  they  were  completely  in  his  power.  But  his  strength 
failed  him,  and  perhaps  his  sight;  for  he  must  have  been 
in  the  agonies  of  death  during  the  whole  conflict.  It 
may  be  that  the  poor  Indian  relented,  and  that  forgive- 
ness played  like  a  sunshine  around  his  generous  heart. 
He  cast  one  glance  upon  his  fallen  foes;  then  turning 
away,  he  walked  out  into  the  grass,  and  fell  upon  his 
wee  amid  the  wild  flowers  of  the  prairie,  where  his  heart. 


140  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

which  never  ceased  to  beat  with  kindness  for  the  white, 
man,  at  once  and  forever  was  still. 

During  the  entire  engagement  he  never  spoke  a  word. 
Silently  he  acted  his  part  in  the  fearful  drama,  as  though 
moved  by  an  invisible  agency.  The  conduct  of  Wolf 
and  his  comrades  was  the  most  dastardly  and  mean, 
and  deserves  the  execration  of  the  world.  They  first 
attempted  to  disarm  him  by  throwing  the  priming  out 
of  his  gun,  and  then  talking  with  him,  and  parting  undei 
the  mask  of  friendship.  Had  Wolf  and  his  companions 
supposed  him  to  have  been  accessory  to  the  death  of 
Herrod  in  any  way,  he  would  have  gone  with  them 
cheerfully  to  Old  Town  or  Chiiicothe,  and  given  himself 
up  to  an  investigation.  But  Wolf  was  determined  on 
murder,  and  the  blood  of  Waw-wil-a-way  rests  on  his 
head. 

Williams  was  found  dead  of  his  wounds.  Wolf  was 
carried  home  in  a  wagon,  and  the  knife-blade  extracted 
by  a  surgeon.  Ferguson's  wound  was  dressed,  but  both 
of  these  suffered  much.  The  body  of  the  chief  was 
found  where  it  fell,  and  it  was  pronounced  by  the  sur- 
geon— Dr.  Edmiston — who  examined  his  wounds,  that 
either  of  them  must  have  proved  mortal.  It  seemed  that 
Providence  designed  he  should,  in  some  degree,  avenge 
his  own  death. 

The  death  of  this  great  and  good  Indian  chief  added 
fuel  to  the  excitement  which  had  preceded  it.  The  Indi- 
ans in  the  neighborhood  fled  in  one  direction,  and  the 
whites  in  another.  Neither  party  knew  what  to  do.  A.11 
was  dismay  and  confusion. 

In  this  dreadful  state  of  suspense  and  alarm,  General 
M' Arthur  and  Governor  Worthington,  with  a  few  others, 
mounted  their  horses  and  went  into  the  Indian  country 
near  Fort  Greenville,  where  they  found  a  numerous  body 
of  Indians,  among  whom  was  the  far-famed  and  celebni- 


REV.     JAMES    B.     F  INLET.  14 1 

'.ed  chief,  Tecumseb,  or  Shooting  Star,  as  this  name  signi- 
fies. With  these  Indians  a  council  was  held.  They  re- 
lated what  had  happened,  narrating  all  the  circumstances 
connected  with  the  death  of  Captain  Herrod  and  Waw- 
wil-a-way.  The  Indians  declared  they  had  no  knowledge 
of  these  transactions,  and  reiterated  their  purpose  to  stand 
firm  by  the  treaty  made  at  that  place.  After  some  further 
deliberation  between  the  parties,  Tecumseh  agreed  to  ac- 
company them  to  Chilicothe,  which  he  did.  After  their 
arrival,  a  day  was  fixed  on  which  he  would  address  all 
the  people.  At  the  appointed  time  a  vast  assemblage  was 
convened.  The  interpreter  for  the  occasion  was  a  white 
man  by  the  name  of  Riddle,  who  had  been  for  many  years 
a  prisoner  among  the  Indians.  Governor  Tiffin  opened 
the  talk,  and  after  he  had  finished  and  sat  down  Tecum- 
seh arose.  His  personal  appearance  was  prepossessing. 
His  figure  was  tall  and  commanding.  Native  dignity  sat 
enthroned  upon  his  massive  brow ;  and  while  this  son  of 
the  forest — this  shooting  meteor — poured  out  the  bright 
flashes  of  wit  and  eloquence  over  the  vast  concourse,  all 
was  silent  as  the  grave.  With  the  strongest  language,  he 
spoke  of  the  amicable  relations  subsisting  between  the  In- 
dians and  their  white  brethren,  and  the  determination  of 
the  former  forever  to  abide  by  the  treaty.  He  expressed 
a  hope  that  it  would  be  kept  inviolate  by  both  parties, 
and  that  brotherly  love  would  be  long  and  lasting  as  time 
between  the  white  man  and  the  Indian.  When  he  con- 
cluded, the  sachems  shook  hands  in  token  of  the  friend- 
ship and  fellowship  existing  between  both  parties.  This 
interview  allayed  all  alarm,  and  the  people  all  returned 
again  to  their  quiet  homes  and  peaceful  pursuits. 

There  was  one  exception,  however,  to  the  general  tran- 
quillity. Waw-wil-a-way,  as  before  related,  had  two  sons, 
who  had,  in  obedience  to  their  religion,  vowed  to  be  re- 
venged  on  Wolf  for  the  death  of  their  father.     According 


112  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

to  the  custom  of  the  Indians,  the  nearest  kin  to  the  mur- 
dered man  has  a  right,  and  it  is  made  his  duty,  to  kill  the 
murderer  whenever  or  wherever  he  could  find  him,  unless 
the  murderer  purchased  his  life  by  a  certain  price  agreed 
upon  by  the  family.  Wolf,  hearing  of  the  intentions  of 
the  sons  of  the  murdered  chief,  took  his  family  and  re 
moved  to  Kentucky,  at  the  same  time  employing  an  agen* 
to  intercede  with  the  young  men.  A  negotiation  was 
finally  entered  into,  and  the  agent  agreed  to  furnish  each 
of  the  young  Indians  with  a  horse,  a  new  saddle  and  bridle, 
and  a  new  rifle.  On  complying  with  this  condition,  they 
agreed  to  bury  the  tomahawk  and  make  peace  with  him 
and  his  forever.  Wolf  agreed  to  the  proposition,  and  the 
time  and  place  were  fixed  upon  for  the  fulfillment  of  the 
contract.. 

iV  large  concourse  was  assembled  at  Old  Town,  to  wit- 
ness the  Indian  ceremonies.  A  hollow  square  was  formed, 
in  which  were  Wolf  and  his  horses  and  trappings,  and  the 
two  Indians.  The  Indians,  in  relinquishing  their  claim  to 
the  life  of  the  murderer,  raised  their  hands  toward  heaven, 
invoking  the  Great  Spirit,  declaring  that  to  him  alone  they 
transferred  the  blood  and  life  of  Wolf,  forfeited  by  the 
death  of  their  father.  The  scene  was  full  of  the  most 
impressive  solemnity,  and  many  were  moved  to  tears.  In 
token  of  their  forgiveness,  they  advanced  and  took  Wolf 
by  the  hand — the  same  bloody  hand  which  sent  their  be- 
loved father  to  the  grave  and  made  them  orphans.  Then 
saluting  him  as  a  brother,  they  lighted  the  calumet,  or 
pipe  of  peace,  and  smoked  with  him  in  the  presence  of  the 
Great  Spirit.  They  remained  good  friends  ever  afterward, 
and  often  visited  each  other. 

I  have  selected  the  above  as  one  of  the  many  tragical 
occurrences  of  those  days ;  and  though  some  may  think  I 
ought  to  pass  over  such  scenes  of  carnage  and  death,  yet, 
as  a  faithful  chronicler  of  the  times  in  which  I  lived,  I 


KBV.     JAMES    B.     KINLEY  143 

think  it  due  to  posterity  to  know  through  what  perils  th^i? 
fathers  passed,  and  what  were  the  circumstances  by  which 
they  were  surrounded.  The  only  way  to  judge  correctly 
of  human  character,  is  to  take  into  the  account  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  was  developed. 

The  trials  which  our  fathers  and  mothers  endured  in 
the  early  settlement  of  this  country,  and  the  fortitude 
evinced  by  them  in  the  hour  of  danger,  should  never  be 
forgotten  by  their  sons  and  daughters.  Before  closing 
this  chapter,  I  will  relate  an  incident  which  occurred  on 
Bear  Grass,  in  Kentucky,  near  where  the  city  of  Louis- 
ville now  stands.  A  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Atkinson 
had  removed,  with  his  family,  from  some  of  the  older  set- 
tlements, to  this  place,  and  with  his  colored  servants,  had 
opened  a  farm.  Before,  however,  the  forests  were  leveled 
around  him,  or  he  had  realized  the  bright  anticipations  in 
which  he  had  indulged,  he  fell  by  the  stroke  of  death. 
His  wife  and  an  only  daughter,  a  beautiful  and  accom- 
plished girl  of  fifteen  summers,  after  his  death,  concluded 
to  remain  in  their  new  home.  The  scene  of  the  husband's 
and  father's  labors  and  death  was  rendered  too  sacred  to 
be  left  for  any  slight  or  transient  cause.  On  a  grassy 
knoll,  not  far  from  the  cottage,  slept,  in  his  long  last  sleep, 
the  idol  of  their  hearts.  Thither  they  would  repair,  when 
the  early  spring  opened  the  buds,  and  plant  flowers. 
There,  after  the  toils  of  the  day,  that  lonely  child  would 
wander,  to  weep  and  pray ;  and  often  have  the  stars,  those 
bright  sentinels  of  heaven,  looked  down  from  the  blue 
depths,  to  watch  the  devotions  of  the  pure  spirit  lingering 
there. 

About  one  year  after  this  melancholy  event,  the  daugh- 
ter was  out  later  than  usual,  accompanied  by  a  faithful 
servant.  Seeming  unwilling  to  leave  the  spot  where  her 
heart's  treasure  was  entombed,  she  tarried,  pensive  and 
*ad,  when  suddenly  she  was  startled  by  a  low  growl  in 


]  14  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

the  woods,  apparently  at  a  short  distance  from  her.  Fear- 
ing it  might  be  some  beast  of  prey,  with  which  the  woods 
were  infested,  she  hastened  home.  So  accustomed  was 
she  to  visit  her  father's  grave  in  the  evening,  her  mother 
was  not  alarmed  at  her  stay.  When  she  entered  the  cot- 
tage, she  Was  considerably  agitated,  and  communicated 
the  cause  of  it  to  her  mother. 

The  servants  occupied  quarters  close  at  hand,  and  as 
they  were  true  and  trusty,  there  was  no  great  cause  of 
fear  on  the  part  of  the  mother  and  her  daughter;  but,  on 
retiring  that  night,  they  doubly  barred  the  door  of  their 
rude  habitation.  After  they  had  retired  to  rest,  they  were 
startled  by  an  unusual  noise  in  the  yard.  The  mother 
sprang  out  of  bed,  and,  adjusting  her  clothes,  took  down 
the  rifle,  which  hung  over  the  door,  and  after  examining, 
cautiously,  the  load,  and  priming,  she  carefully  opened 
the  door,  and  stepped  into  the  yard.  She  looked  in  every 
direction,  but  she  could  see  nothing.  She  walked  around 
the  house,  examining  every  corner,  but  still  nothing  was 
to  be  seen.  She  also  passed  around  the  cabin  of  the  serv- 
ants, but  could  not  detect  the  cause*  of  the  noise.  She 
returned  into  the  house  and  set  down  the  gun.  Her 
daughter  had  arisen,  and  dressed  herself,  and  was  stirring 
up  the  fire.  She  assured  her  mother  that  there  must  be 
some  wild  beast  about  the  house,  as  she  distinctly  heard 
its  footsteps  while  she  was  out.  Upon  this,  the  mother 
resolved  to  go  to  the  cabin,  and  wake  the  servant  Dan,  a 
bold  and  fearless  negro.  She  accordingly  went  and  waktd 
him,  and  told  him  to  get  up,  which  he  did  as  speedily  as 
possible,  and  after  putting  on  his  clothes,  he  came  out 
armed  with  a  heavy  stick.  She  directed  him  to  go  round 
the  house  one  way,  and  she  would  take  the  other.  Before 
they  had  proceeded  ten  steps,  Mrs.  Atkinson  was  seized 
by  a  huge  bear.  The  negro  immediately  made  a  blow 
with  his  club  at  the  head  of  the  animal,  and  stunned  him 


REV       JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  145 

so  that  he  let  go  his  hold;  but  soon  recovering  himself, 
he  commenced  his  attack  on  Dan,  who  kept  up  a  running 
fight  till  he  reached  his  lodge,  which  he  did,  and,  slam- 
ming to  the  door,  roused  all  the  inmates.  Having  thus 
cut  off  his  pursuit,  the  bear  directed  his  course  toward 
Mrs.  Atkinson,  and,  just  as  she  was  entering  the  door  of 
her  house,  caught  her  by  her  dress,  and  drew  her  toward 
him.  At  this  critical  moment  the  click  of  a  gun-lock 
was  heard,  which  was  instantly  followed  by  the  sharp 
crack  of  a  rifle;  the  bear  relaxed  his  hold,  doubled  up, 
and  rolled  over  at  her  feet,  in  the  last  struggle.  An 
unerring  aim  had  sent  a  ball  through  his  heart. 

The  daughter  was  a  witness  of  the  conflict  in  the  yard ; 
but  it  was  too  dark  for  her  to  see  to  shoot,  without  the 
light  of  her  fire,  and  whenever  the  enemy  came  within  its 
range,  his  life  paid  the  forfeit. 

This  intrepid  act  doubtless  saved  the  mother's  life. 
That  brave,  yet  delicate,  affectionate,  and  dutiful  child 
became  the  high-souled,  heroic  woman.  Her  skill,  judg- 
ment, and  bravery  were  often,  in  after  years,  relied  upon 
to  guide  the  destiny  of  the  infant  settlements,  during 
many  severe  conflicts  in  the  dark  and  bloody  ground. 
By  marriage,  this  courageous  backwoods  girl  became 
connected  with  one  of  the  first  and  most  ancient  families 
of  the  south.  Her  descendants  are  numerous  and  respect- 
able, inheriting  the  virtues  and  bravery  of  their  mother, 
figuring  largely  in  the  military,  civil,  and  political  his- 
tory of  the  west;  and  they  have  not  forgotten  the  story 
of  the  bear. 

Before  closing  this  chapter  I  will  relate  another  inci- 
dent of  backwoods  bravery. 

An  aged  lady,  who  died  in  Ross  county  some  fifty  years 
since,  related  to  me  the  following  circumstance:  When 
she,  with  her  family,  went  first  to  reside  in  Kentucky  the 
Indians    attacked    their   cabin,    and    shot    her    husband, 

10 


1 4f>  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

wounding  him  so  badly  that  lie  was  unable  to  render  any 
further  assistance.  They  then  tried  to  force  the  door 
No  person  being  with  her  in  the  house  but  a  mulatto 
boy,  about  seventeen  years  of  age,  they  both  flew  to  the 
door,  and  pressed  all  their  weight  against  it.  An  Indian 
finally  succeeding  in  getting  his  body  partly  into  the 
house,  she  seized  the  hand-ax,  and  killed  him  on  the 
spot.  They  then  succeeded  in  closing  the  door  and 
barring  it.  She  then  took  her.husband's  mm,  and,  firing 
through  the  port-hole,  shot  another  Indian  dead  in  the 
yard.  The  other  two — for  there  were  four  of  them — 
then  made  preparations  to  descend  the  chimney ;  but  no 
sooner  had  one  of  them  entered  the  flue,  than  ripping 
open  a  pillow-case,  she  threw  the  feathers  on  the  fire. 
This  so  suffocated  and  scorched  the  Indian  that  he  fell 
into  the  fireplace,  and  the  negro  boy  seizing  him,  he  was 
soon  dispatched  by  the  old  lady  in  the  same  manner  the 
first  aggresser  was  killed.  There  was  but  one  Indian 
left,  and  fearing  he  would  meet  the  same  sad  fate  which 
befell  his  companions,  he  fled  in  dismay  from  the  scene  cf 
conflict. 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  H7 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE    IN    THE     WOODS. 

I  will  now  return  to  my  personal  narrative.  After  the 
Detroit  expedition,  I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  winter 
in  hunting.  Having  attained  the  age  of  twenty,  I  felt 
considerable  uneasiness  and  indeterrainateness  in  regard 
to  my  future  course  in  life.  There  were  many  things  to 
divert  my  mind,  and  much  that  was  calculated  to  produce 
dissipation  of  thought.  An  abundance  of  youthful  com- 
pany, with  every  variety  of  diversions,  such  as  huskings, 
quiltings,  dancings,  and  plays  of  all  descriptions,  presented 
themselves  and  were  urged  upon  my  attention.  All  these, 
however,  possessed  not  the  charms  of  a  hunter's  life,  and 
I  was  not  long  in  making  my  election. 

In  company  with  three  of  my  companions,  I  made  prep- 
arations to  start  out  upon  a  winter's  hunt.  We  agreed  to 
take  no  horses,  and  every  man  was  to  carry  his  own  stock 
of  provisions  and  cooking  utensils.  So  taking  a  few  corn- 
dodgers, one  camp-kettle,  about  a  quart  of  salt,  a  blanket 
apiece,  and  our  hunting  apparatus,  we  started  for  the 
woods.  After  two  days'  travel,  we  arrived  at  a  place 
where  there  were  bear  signs  in  great  abundance,  but  they 
were  not  fresh.  Here  we  camped  and  started  out  to  hunt. 
By  this  time  our  store  of  provisions  was  exhausted,  and 
the  leaves  being  dry  none  of  us  were  able  to  kill  any 
game.  We  tried  hard  the  next  day,  but  with  the  same 
unsuccessful  result,  except  that  one  of  our  party  killed  a 
wild-cat.  This  we  prepared  for  our  camp-kettle,  and 
when  boiled  »t  made  us  the  first  meal  we  had  partaken  of 


148  AUTOBIOGRAPU  Y    OF 

fot  two  days.  I  shall  always  think  it  was  the  toughest 
meal  I  ever  ate. 

Our  object  being  to  hunt  bears,  and  finding  that  they 
had  all  left  that  section  and  gone  in  quest  of  mast,  we 
resolved,  if  possible,  to  follow  them.  As  there  was  no 
snow  on  the  ground,  and  we  could  not  track  them,  the 
only  things  we  had  to  guide  us  in  our  search,  were  the 
branches  and  soft  muddy  places  over  which  they  had 
crossed.  On  the  third  day  we  concluded  to  take  a  large 
circle  and  make  observations.  It  was  cloudy,  and  the 
snow  began  to  fall.  About  noon  I  fell  in  with  two  of  my 
companions,  and  supposing  it  to  be  near  night,  as  the 
clouds  and  snow  had  made  it  dark,  we  considered  it  time 
to  look  out  for  a  place  to  camp.  We  differed  about  the 
course  we  should  take,  but  finally  yielding  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  oldest  hunter,  we  traveled  on  till  it  began  to 
be  quite  dark.  Despairing  of  finding  any  game,  we  were 
about  to  stop  and  make  preparations  for  camping,  when 
our  dogs  treed  a  large  raccoon.  Being  dark,  we  could 
not  see  the  animal  with  any  distinctness,  and  after  several 
ineffectual  shots,  at  length  a  ball  found  its  way  to  the 
hapless  victim,  and  he  fell  dead  at  our  feet.  This  was,  to 
us,  a  source  of  great  joy.  Three  days,  with  only  one 
poor  wild-cat  for  three  hearty  hunters,  was  short  fare; 
and  the  reader  may  be  assured  that  a  fat  coon  was  very 
acceptable.  We  soon  made  preparations  for  a  barbecue. 
A  fire  was  made,  and  we  could  hardly  wait  till  our  game 
was  roasted,  till  we  were  cutting  and  eating  it.  The  coon 
was  exceedingly  fat,  and  we  wished  very  much  for  some 
bread  to  catch  the  rich  drippings. 

Next  morning  the  snow  was  a  foot  deep  on  the  ground. 
My  moccasins  were  worn  out  on  the  bottom,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  peel  lynn  bark  and  make  soles  for  them  before 
[  could  proceed.  After  drying  ourselves  as  well  as  we 
:ould,  before  our  camp-fire — for  we  were  much  exposed  to 


KEV.   J^MES    B.    FINLEY.  149 

he  snow  during  the  night,  and  the  only  way  we  could 
keep  at  all  comfortable  with  our  scanty  clothing,  was  to 
get  the  dogs  to  lie  to  our  backs — we  decamped. 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  till  we  came  upon  a  large 
flock  oi  turkeys,  and  killing  as  many  as  we  could  carry, 
for  future  use,  we  commenced  retracing  our  steps,  and, 
finding  but  little  game,  we  changed  the  object  of  pursuit 
to  that  of  deer.  For  this  purpocc  we  removed  our  camp 
to  the  large  bottoms  of  Paint  creek,  where  we  hunted 
with  good  success,  and  had  plenty  to  live  on. 

After  getting  all  the  skins  and  game  that  we  could 
carry,  we  returned  home. 

The  holidays,  such,  for  instance,  as  Christmas  and 
New -Year's,  were  spent  in  shooting-matches,  dancing, 
•.nd  frolicking,  at  which,  in  the  language  of  the  back- 
woodsman, I  made  a  whole  hand.  These  diversions,  as 
I  before  remarked,  were  not  altogether  suited  to  my  taste 
or  inclination.  I  was  still  undecided  in  regard  to  what 
course  I  should  pursue  in  future  life.  If  I  went  into  the 
practice  of  medicine,  I  saw  or  thought  I  saw  innumerable 
difficulties  connected  therewith.  To  be  always  with  the 
sick  and  dying,  and  constantly  to  breathe  an  atmosphere 
of  sighs  and  disease,  was  far  from  being  agreeable  to  my 
feelings.  Besides,  the  collection  of  the  fees,  which,  of  all 
others,  are  the  most  uncertain,  added  to  the  great  respon- 
sibilities of  the  profession,  with  not  one  hour  to  call  my 
own,  seemed  entirely  too  great  an  undertaking  for  me  at 
that  time.  Then  I  would  be  totally  deprived  of  the 
pleasures  of  hunting,  whose  peaceful  enjoyments  had  the 
greatest  charms  for  my  youthful  imagination.  After 
weighing  all  these  considerations,  I  finally  resolved  on 
adopting  a  hunter's  life.  This  being  settled,  the  next 
thing  was  to  get  me  a  wife  suited  to  this  mode  of  living, 
and,  after  taking  advice  from  my  mother  in  so  important 
p  matter,  I  made  my  choice.    On  the  third  day  of  March, 


150  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

1801,  I  was  accordingly  married  to  Hannah  Strane.  Mj 
father  having  bought  land  in  what  is  now  Highland 
county,  I  resolved  to  move,  and  take  possession.  This 
section  of  the  country  was  then  a  dense  wilderness,  with 
only  here  and  there  a  human  habitation.  My  father-in- 
law,  being  unsatisfied  with  his  daughter's  choice,  did  noi 
even  allow  her  to  take  her  clothes,  so  we  started  out, 
without  any  patrimony,  on  our  simple  matrimonial  stock, 
to  make  our  fortune  in  the  woods.  With  the  aid  of  my 
brother  John,  I  built  a  cabin  in  the  forest,  my  nearest 
neighbor  being  three  miles  off.  Into  this  we  moved,  with- 
out horse  or  cow,  bed  or  bedding,  bag  or  baggage.  We 
gathered  up  the  leaves  and  dried  them  in  the  sun ;  then, 
picking  out  all  the  sticks,  we  put  them  into  a  bed-tick. 
For  a  bedstead,  we  drove  forks  into  the  ground,  and  laid 
sticks  across,  over  which  we  placed  elm  bark.  On  this 
we  placed  our  bed  of  leaves,  and  had  comfortable  lodg- 
ing. The  next  thing  was  to  procure  something  to  eat. 
Of  meat  we  had  an  abundance,  supplied  by  my  rifle,  but 
we  wanted  some  bread.  I  cut  and  split  one  hundred  rails 
for  a  bushel  of  potatoes,  which  I  carried  home  on  my 
back,  a  distance  of  six  miles.  At  the  same  place  I  worked 
a  day  for  a  hen  and  three  chickens,  which  I  put  into  my 
hunting-shirt  bosom,  and  carried  home  as  a  great  prize. 
Our  cabin  was  covered  with  bark,  and  lined  and  floored 
with  the  same  material.  One  end  of  the  cabin  was  left 
open  for  a  fireplace.  In  this  we  lived  comfortably  all 
summer.  Having  no  horse  or  plow,  I  went  into  a  plum 
bottom  near  the  house,  and,  with  my  ax,  grubbed  and 
cleared  off  an  acre  and  a  half,  in  which  I  dug  holes  with 
my  hoe,  and  planted  my  corn,  without  any  fence  around 
it.  1  cultivated  this  patch  as  well  I  could  with  my  hoc, 
and  Providence  blessed  my  labor  with  a  good  crop,  of 
over  one  hundred  bushels.  Besides,  during  the  summer, 
with  the  help  of  my  wife,  I  put  up  a  neat  cabin,  and  fip. 


REV.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  15J 

ishcd  it  for  our  winter's  lodgings.  For  the  purpose  of 
making  the  cabin  warm,  I  put  my  corn  in  the  loft,  and 
now.,  if  we  could  not  get  bread,  we  had  always,  as  a  good 
substitute,  plenty  of  hominy.  We  had  also  plenty  of  bear- 
meat  and  venison,  and  no  couple  on  earth  lived  happier 
or  more  contented.  Our  Indian  friends  often  called,  and 
staid  all  night,  and  I  paid  them,  in  return,  occasional 
visits. 

Durmg  the  season  several  families  settled  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and,  when  we  were  together,  we  enjoyed  life 
without  gossip  and  those  often  fatal  bickerings  and  back- 
bitings  which  destroy  the  peace  of  whole  communities. 
Of  all  people  on  the  face  of  God's  earth,  I  despise  a  gos- 
siping tattler,  whose  chief  business  is  to  retail  slander 
from  house  to  house,  and  ruin  the  peace  of  families.  I 
would  rather  meet  a  lioness  bereft  of  her  whelps,  a  bear 
of  her  cubs,  a  hungry  panther,  or  a  revengeful  savage, 
than  a  living  human  being  in  the  form  of  a  tattler,  with 
smooth  tongue  and  slimy  feet.  Though  we  had  but  little, 
our  wants  were  few,  and  we  enjoyed  our  simple  and 
homely  possessions  with  a  relish  the  purse-proud  aristo- 
crat never  enjoyed.  A  generous  hospitality  characterized 
every  neighbor,  and  what  we  had  we  divided  to  the  last 
with  each  other.  When  any  one  wanted  help,  all  were 
ready  to  aid. 

I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  winter  in  hunting  and 
laying  up  a  store  of  provisions  for  the  summer,  so  that  I 
might  give  my  undivided  attention  to  farming.  As  we 
had  no  stock  to  kill,  and  could  not  conveniently  raise 
hogs,  on  account  of  the  wild  animals,  which  would  carry 
them  off,  we  were  obliged  to  depend  upon  the  product  of 
the  woods. 

As  the  bear  was  the  most  valuable,  we  always  hunted 
for  this  animal.  This  fall  there  was  a  good  mast,  and 
bears  were  so  plentiful  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  go 


152  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

from  home  to  hunt  them.  About  Christmas  we  made  oui 
turkey  hunt.  At  that  season  of  the  year  they  are  very 
fat,  and  we  killed  them  in  great  abundance.  To  preserve 
them  we  cleaned  them,  cut  them  in  two,  and,  after  salting 
them  in  troughs,  we  hung  them  up  to  dry.  They  served 
,i  valuable  purpose  to  cook,  in  the  spring  and  summer, 
with  our  bear,  bacon,  and  venison  hams.  Being  dry,  we 
would  stew  them  in  bear's  oil,  and  they  answered  a  good 
substitute  for  bread,  which,  in  those  days,  was  hard  to 
be  obtained,  the  nearest  mill  being  thirty  miles  distant. 
Another  great  difficulty  was  to  procure  salt,  which  sold 
enormously  high — at  the  rate  of  four  dollars  for  fifty 
pounds.  In  backwoods  currency,  it  would  require  four 
buck-skins,  or  a  large  bear-skin,  or  sixteen  coon-skins,  to 
make  the  purchase.  Often  it  could  not  be  had  at  any 
price,  and  the  only  way  we  had  to  procure  it,  was  by 
packing  a  load  of  kettles  on  our  horses  to  the  Scioto  salt 
lick,  and  boiling  the  water  ourselves.  Otherwise  we  had 
to  dispense  with  it  entirely.  I  have  known  meat  cured 
with  strong  hickory  ashes. 

I  imagine  I  hear  the  reader  saying  this  was  hard  living 
and  hard  times.  So  they  would  have  betn  to  the  present 
race  of  men,  but  those  who  lived  at  that  time  enjoyed  life 
with  a  greater  zest,  and  were  more  healthy  and  happy 
than  the  present  race.  We  had  not  then  sickly,  hyster« 
ical  wives,  with  poor,  puny,  sickly,  dying  children,  and 
no  dyspeptic  men  constantly  swallowing  the  nostrums  of 
quacks.  When  we  became  sick  unto  death,  we  died  at 
once,  and  did  not  keep  the  neighborhood  in  a  constant 
state  of  alarm  for  several  weeks,  by  daily  bulletins  of  our 
dying.  Our  young  women  were  beautiful  without  rouge, 
color  de  rose,  meen  fun,  or  any  other  cosmetic,  and  blithe- 
some without  wine  and  fruit-cake.  There  was  then  no 
curvature  of  the  spine,  but  the  lasses  were  straight  and 
fine -looking,  without  corsets  or  whalebone.     They  were 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  153 

neat  in  their  appearance,  and  fresh  as  the  morning,  in 
their  homespun,  without  the  paraphernalia  of  a  la  Par- 
isian wardrobe  and  toilet. 

Young  ladies  did  not  then  weep  over  the  sickly  senti- 
mentalism  of  a  Bulwer,  or  Dickens,  or  Eugene  Sue,  or 
become  corrupted  by  the  yellow-covered  literature"  which 
is  now,  like  the  frogs  of  Egypt,  infesting  our  land.  They 
were  not  annoyed  with  any  Don-Juan-puff-cigaros,  with 
his  lonq;  hair  and  face  resembling  a  worn-out  hearth  - 
brush,  and  whose  long  ears  indicated  to  what  species 
of  the  genus  homo  he  belonged.  The  hard-fisted,  honest 
yeomanry  of  the  country,  instead  of  being  the  mere  prod- 
uct of  the  tailor  or  hair-dresser,  were  nature's  noblemen, 
and  their  associates. 

I  know  it  is  said,  "Tempora  mutantur,  nos  mutamer 
cum  ilius;"  but  I  don't  believe  the  doctrine.  The  ever- 
shifting  phases  of  the  times  would  prove  a  poor  guide  for 
any  sensible  man.  And  yet  I  would  not  be  an  insuffer- 
able croaker,  and  repudiate  all  progress — eesthetical, 
social,  and  intellectual — any  more  than  I  would  reject 
progress  In  the  physical  sciences  and  religion.  I  would 
only  protest  against  the  needless  and  hurtful  superfluities 
of  fashionable  life. 

But  a  truce  to  this, .  and  I  will  resume  my  personal 
narrative. 

When  the  spring  opened  I  was  better  prepared  to  go 
to  farming  than  I  was  the  last  season,  having  procured 
horses  and  plow.  Instead  of  the  laborious  and  tedious 
process  of  working  the  land  with  a  hoe,  I  now  commenced 
plowing.  Providence  crowned  my  labors  with  abundant 
success,  and  we  had  plenty  to  eat  and  wear.  Of  course, 
our  wants  were  few  and  exceedingly  simple,  and  the 
products  of  the  soil  and  hunting  yielded  a  rich  supply, 
Thus  we  lived  within  ourselves  on  our  own  industry,  oui 
only  dependence  being  upon  the  favors  of  an  overruling, 


164  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

bountiful  Benefactor.  We  spun  and  wove  our  own  fabrics 
for  clothing,  and  had  no  tax,  no  muster,  no  court,  no 
justices,  no  lawyers,  no  constables,  and  no  doctors,  and, 
consequently,  had  no  exorbitant  fees  to  pay  to  profes- 
sional gentlemen.  The  law  of  kindness  governed  our 
social  walks ;  and  if  such  a  disastrous  thing  as  a  quarrei 
should  break  out,  the  only  way  to  settle  the  difficulty  was 
by  a  strong  dish  of  fisticuffs.  No  man  was  permitted  to 
insult  another  without  resentment;  and  if  an  insult  was 
permitted  to  pass  unrevenged,  the  insulted  party  lost  his 
standing  and  caste  in  society.  Many  a  muss  or  spree  was 
gotten  up,  in  which,  the  best  of  friends  quarreled  and 
fought,  through  the  sole  influence  of  the  brown  jug. 

It  was  seldom  we  had  any  preaching;  but  if  a  travel- 
ing minister  should  come  along  and  make  an  appointment, 
all  would  go  out  to  preaching.  If  the  preaching  was  on 
a  week-day,  the  men  would  go  in  their  hunting-shirts, 
with  their  guns.  On  Sabbath  the  gun  was  left  at  home, 
but  the  belt  and  knife  were  never  forgotten.  When  assem- 
bled all  was  attention  and  order,  and  no  one  was  allowed 
to  behave  disorderly,  as  such  conduct  would  have  been 
punished,  and  the  miscreant  driven  from  decent  society. 
Such  was  the  high  sense  of  honor  and  decorum,  that 
a  young  woman  would  discard  the  society  of  any'young 
man  who  would  be  guilty  of  overstepping  the  bounds 
of  propriety. 

We  have  fallen,  however,  upon  different  times.  In  the 
rapid  march  of  civilization  and  refinement,  we  find  young 
men,  "nice  young  men,"  and,  strange  to  say,  young 
women^too,  who  can,  on  these  occasions,  with  the  most 
unblushing  effrontery,  desecrate  the  house  of  God,  and 
disturb  a  whole  congregation  of  worshipers,  without  elicit- 
ing any  censure  from  a  large  majority. 

I  once  went  a  considerable  distance  to  hear  father  John 
Collins   preach.     When   I  arrived  there  the  house  was 


REVr.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY/.  155 

filled  to  overflowing.  Being  just  able  to  crowd  in  the 
door,  I  stood  listening,  deeply  interested  with  the  soft, 
sweet  tones  of  his  silvery  voice,  as  he  described  the  love 
of  God  to  man.  Every  sentence  increased  my  interest, 
so  that  I  would  not  have  lost  a  word  for  a  world.  Just 
when  my  interest  was  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
intensity,  a  fellow,  without  sense  or  manners,  commenced 
disturbing  the  congregation  by  talking  arid  moving  about. 
I  told  him  two  or  three  times  to  be  quiet,  but  he  still 
persisted.  So  I  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  led  him  out 
some  distance  from  the  house,  intending  to  give  him  a 
severe  horsewhipping  for  his  impudence  and  insolence; 
but  he  pleaded  so  hard  and  pitifully,  and  promised  never 
to  be  guilty  of  so  mean  an  act  again,  that  I  let  him  go. 

At  that  time  there  were  but  few  schools  in  the  country, 
and  they  were  like  angels'  visits.  The  schoolmaster  was 
evidently  abroad.  The  most  of  the  children  were,  how- 
ever, taught  to  read ;  as  for  writing,  that  was  an  accom- 
plishment for  which  they  had  no  use.  Those  who  had 
the  rare  privilege  of  going  to  school  generally  graduated 
in  a  quarter.  The  Sabbath  day  was  usually  spent  in  vis- 
iting, hunting,  and  fishing;  but  notwithstanding  this  was 
the  general  practice  when  there  were  no  meetings,  I 
never  could  indulge  in  it,  for  two  reasons:  First,  I  was 
taught,  from  my  youth  up,  to  "remember  the  Sabbath  day, 
and  keep  it  holy,"  and  my  conscience  would  condemn  me 
more  for  a  breach  of  this  commandment  than  for  almost 
any  other  sin  I  committed.  Second,  I  had  a  conviction  that 
if  I  hunted  on  the  Sabbath  day  I  would  have  no  luck  all 
through  the  next  week.  I  observed  that  those  who  made 
a  practice  of  hunting  on  that  day  were  always  the  most 
unsuccessful  hunters. 

I  once  broke  this  commandment  of  God.  It  was  a 
most  lovely  day.  The  sun  rose  bright  and  clear.  Al< 
nature  rejoiced  in  his  light.     The  birds  sang  sweetly  theii 


156  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

matin  songs,  and  a  holy  quiet  reigned  around,  save  when 
an  occasional  hunter's  gun  would  break  the  stillness,  sound- 
in^  as  harsh  almost  as  discord  in  heaven.  Strange  that 
I  should,  under  such  circumstances,  be  tempted;  and  yet 
I  was  powerfully,  irresistibly  tempted.  I  persuaded  my 
wife  to  go  to  the  nearest  neighbor's,  with  a  promise  that  I 
would  soon  follow.  When  she  was  gone,  I  took  my  gun, 
ran  about  a  mile  from  home,  and  seeing  a  fine,  large 
buck,  I  fired,  and  killed  him ;  then  taking  out  his  entrails, 
I  threw  him  over  a  log,  and  returned.  When  I  anived 
at  home  I  began  to  feel  safe  in  the  reflection,  that  no  one 
had  seen  me;  but  quick  as  lightning  Conscience  reared 
her  terrific  scepter,  and  uttered,  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
"  God  has  seen  you,  and  you  have  shown  that  you  fear 
man  more  than  you  do  God."  How  much  then  did  I 
wish  my  load  back  in  my  gun,  and  the  buck  alive,  grazing 
in  his  own  native  forest !  Wicked  as  I  was,  I  was  accu  >- 
tomed  to  pray  for  luck  in  hunting;  and  I  believed  then 
that  God  often  heard  and  answered  my  prayers.  Once, 
in  particular,  my  brother  John  and  myself  had  been 
hunting  for  three  entire  days  without  success,  and  were 
hungry  as  wolves.  The  leaves  were  so  dry  it  was  impos- 
sible for  us  to  get  near  enough  to  any  game  to  shoot  it. 
Weary  and  faint,  I  prayed  to  God  for  help.  My  brother, 
being  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  branch,  as  soon  as  I  ceased 
praying,  started  up  a  buck,  which  ran  directly  toward  me. 
I  was  as  much  impressed  with  the  belief  that  God  Ltad 
sent  him  as  that  he  sent  the  ram  to  the  thicket  on 
Moriah.  Aftpr  coming  near  to  me,  he  stopped,  and  1 
shot  him. 

This  fall  a  neighbor  and  myself,  urged  by  our  wives, 
-vent  some  distance  to  gather  cat-tails  to  make  them  beds, 
as  the  leaf  beds  were  nearly  worn  out.  We  entered  upon 
the  journey,  and  had  not  proceeded  many  miles  till  oui 
dog   started  up  a  bear,  and  soon  ran  it  up  a  tree.     I 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  157 

remained  there  only  a  short  time,  when  it  let  go  and  came 
down.  I  sprang  from  my  horse  and  ran  while  the  dogs 
were  fighting,  and  forgetting  to  cock  my  gun,  placed  the 
muzzle  of  it  against  the  bear  and  pulled  the  trigger,  but 
it  would  not  fire ;  so  I  threw  it  down,  and  taking  my  tom- 
ahawk was  about  to  strike,  when  it  broke  loose  and  ran 
away.  Soon  after  this  we  saw  a  large  buck  running  across 
our  track.     I  bleated;  he  stopped,  and  I  shot  him. 

After  gathering  our  bags  full  of  cat -tails,  we  started, 
about  sundown,  to  hunt  a  place  to  camp.  Soon  after  we 
started,  I  heard  the  dogs  after  a  bear.  Leaving  my  horse 
with  my  companion,  I  ran  half  a  mile  and  found  a  large 
bear  treed  by  the  dogs.  It  was  getting  dark,  but  taking 
as  good  aim  as  I  could  I  fired  and  he  fell,  but  was  only 
wounded  and  regained  his  position.  I  loaded  and  fired 
again,  and  again  he  fell ;  but  before  I  could  reload  he  was 
up  and  fighting  with  the  dogs.  I  ran  up  to  him,  placed 
my  gun  against  his  ear,  and  killed  him.  Here  we  en- 
camped all  night  and  feasted  on  the  deer  which  we  had 
killed,  and  in  the  morning  we  breakfasted  on  the  bear's 
feet,  which  had  been  roasting  in  the  ashes  all  night  This 
meal  constitutes  the  richest  conceivable  delicacy.  Som€ 
hunters  think  a  beaver's  tail  is  better,  or  the  marrow  from 
the  joint  of  a  buffalo,  but  I  beg  leave  to  differ.  Those 
who  have  been  living  on  puddings  and  confectionaries 
know  nothing  of  these  good  things. 

This  was  an  unlucky  year  to  me,  as  I  lost  all  the  prop- 
erty I  had  by  going  security,  or  appearance-bail,  at  court 
for  one  of  my  neighbors.  It  being  forty  miles  to  Chili- 
cothe,  I  did  not  go  to  lift  my  bonds ;  and  after  judgment 
went  against  him  he  ran  away,  and  they  held  me  special 
bail  for  the  debt,  which  I  always  believed  was  unjust.  I 
knew  nothing  of  the  matter  till  the  deputy  sheriff  came 
with  an  execution.  I  had  in  my  possession  one  hundred 
acres  of  military  land,  and  had  made  good  and  substantial 


I5S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

improvements  thereon,  but  all  must  go  to  pay  the  debt? 
of  another.  It  made  a  clean  sweep;  took  all  my  land 
and  all  the  money  I  had  to  the  last  farthing.  I  then 
vowed  that  I  would  never  again,  as  long  as  I  lived,  go 
security  for  any  living  being.  Right  or  wrong  as  this 
vow  may  have  been,  I  have  kept  it  to  this  day. 

I  consoled  my  wife  as  well  as  I  could,  and  told  her  we 
were  young,  and  had  begun  the  world  with  nothing,  and 
would  do  it  again.  I  requested  her  to  stay  at  home,  and 
keep  house,  and  I  would  take  to  the  woods  and  hunt. 
Bear-skins  commanded  a  good  price — from  three  to  seven 
dollars,  according  to  the  size  and  quality.  I  spent  the 
winter  mostly  in  the  woods,  and  suffered  much  from  lying 
out  at  night  without  bed-clothes  or  bed,  only  as  I  could 
make  one  out  of  dry  bark.  I  wrapped  skins  around  me 
and  laid  by  the  fire.  It  was  a  prosperous  winter,  and 
success,  the  most  sanguine,  crowned  my  days  and  nights 
of  toil  and  privation.  From  the  proceeds  of  my  winter 
campaign,  I  was  enabled  to  purchase  as  good  a  home  a? 
that  from  which  the  law  had  ejected  me. 

Thus  I  passed  seven  years,  farming  in  the  summer  anc1 
hunting  in  the  winter,  and  adding  to  my  resources  till  I 
had  a  comfortable  home,  with  every  thing  necessary  to 
make  a  backwoodsman  happy.  But  my  neighbors  became 
too  numerous,  and  my  hunting-grounds  were  broken  in 
upon  by  the  ax  of  civilization ;  game  became  scarce  and 
hard  to  take ;  my  ranges  were  broken  up,  and  I  had  about 
come  to  the  conclusion  to  go  to  a  new  country.  It  seemed 
as  though  my  happiness  depended  upon  a  life  in  the 
woods — "the  grand  old  woods,"  where  Nature  had  erected 
her  throne,  and  where  she  swayed  her  scepter. 

Alone  in  the  deep  solitude  of  the  wilderness  man  can 
commune  with  himself  and  Nature  and  her  God,  and  real- 
ize emotions  and  thoughts  that  the  crowded  city  never  can 
produce.     To  oe  sure  one  has  said,  "A  great  city  is  a 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLET.  15^ 

groat  desert;"  but  it  is  a  desert  of  depraved  humanity, 
where  every  one  is  wrapped  up  in  selfishness,  and  guards' 
himself  against  his  neighbor  while  his  heart  rankles  wmi 
envy  at  his  prosperity,  or  his  wild,  unbridled  ambition 
urges  him  on  the  reckless  course  of  outstripping  all  his 
competitors.  Kot  so  in  the  woods.  There  pride;  envy, 
selfishness,  and  ambition  have  no  abode.  The  only  evil 
spirit  that  haunts  the  woods  is  Melancholy.  This  will 
often  steal  upon  the  heart  of  those  who  have  not  found 
the  satisfying  portion  which  religion  imparts.  There  are 
some  scenes  in  the  wilderness  where  a  gloomy  grandeur 
reigns  around,  and  they  often  inspire  like  sensations  in  the 
mind  of  the  beholder.  Speaking  of  Melancholy,  a  certain 
poet  says : 

"  She  dwells  by  a  cave,  where  the  cypress  and  willow 

Are  gemmed  with  the  tears  that  fall  from  hei  eyes 
The  cold  earth  her  bed,  the  flint-stone  her  pihow, 

Midnight  her  mantle,  her  curtain  the  skies; 
Her  tresses  are  dark  as  the  wings  of  the  raven, 

Her  robes  are  all  jet,  and  her  bosom  is  bare ; 
Like  a  bark  on  the  waves,  'mid  the  whirlwinds  of  heaven, 

She  wanders  distracted,  or  sinks  to  despair." 

Unexcited  by  the  chase,  the  hunter,  especially  if  alone, 
is  apt  to  become  melancholy  ;  and  though  sages  may  speak 
of  "the  charms  of  solitude,"  the  mind,  without  some 
stimulus,  would  not  be  likely  to  discover  them.  Again 
and  again  have  I  felt  this  melancholy  steal  over  me  like  a 
cloud  over  the  face  of  the  sun ;  and  were  it  possible  to 
write  out  my  thoughts,  conjectures,  imaginings,  hopes, 
fears,  and  temptations  while  alone  in  the  woods,  it  would 
startle  a  reader  unused  to  such  scenes  and  associations 
Often  a  stirring  adventure  would  break  in  upon  the  dead 
sea  of  thought  or  the  whirlpool  of  passion,  reusing  the 
one  or  calming  the  other,  and  again  the  life  would  flow 
on  in  the  even  tenor  of  its  way. 

On  one  occasion  my  feelings  underwent  a  sudden  trans- 


1  (30  A  U  T  O  U  I  0  G  B  APHY     OF 

formation  by  an  incident  which  occurred.  I  had  beer 
brooding  in  melancholy  over  my  bad  luck,  when  a  iargf 
she  bear,  started  up  by  my  dogs,  broke  the  reverie.  ] 
shot  at  and  wounded  her;  but  she  had  attacked  my  dogs 
and  was  killing  one  of  them.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  so 
I  ran  up  and  thrust  my  knife  into  her  side.  At  this  she 
released  her  hold  of  the  dog  and  caught  me  by  the  leg. 
In  my  effort  to  get  released  I  was  thrown  upon  my  back 
She  then  made  an  attack  on  me,  and  I  felt  that  scarcely 
any  thing  short  of  a  miracle  could  save  me.  Already  I 
eould  see  her  wide,  distended  jaws  ready  to  devour  me. 
The  dogs,  though  wounded,  recommenced  the  attack,  and 
succeeded  in  pulling  her  off,  and  thus  saved  me  from 
death.  Being  released,  I  succeeded  in  killing  my  enemy. 
At  another  time,  my  neighbor  was  with  me  hunting  coons. 
At  night  the  dogs  caught  some'  animal  in  a  grape-vine 
thicket.  I  ran  in  to  see  what  it  was,  and  stooping  down 
found  myself  directly  between  the  horns  of  a  large  buck, 
which  had  become  entangled  in  the  vine.  I  was  now  lit- 
erally between  the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  My  companion 
cut  the  ham-strings,  and  I  took  hold  of  one  horn  and 
placed  my  feet  on  the  other  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
him.  At  this  he  made  one  lunge,  broke  the  vine,  and 
threw  me  some  distance  on  my  back.  Had  my  feet 
siipped,  I  would  doubtless  have  been  gored  to  death. 

Thus  I  have  endeavored  to  give  the  reader  some  ac- 
count of  the  scenes  and  trials  through  which  I  passed  ip 
.he  woods  of  the  west. 


KEV.    JAMES    B      FINLEY.  16J 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

RELIGIOUS    LIFE. 

Having  given  some  small  account  of  my  training  in  the 
woods^  I  will  now  go  back  and  give  the  reader  some  ac- 
count of  my  religious  education.  As  I  before  remarked, 
I  was  raised  by  Presbyterian  parents.  As  customary  in 
that  Church,  a  custom  too,  I  would  remark,  worthy  of  all 
praise,  I  was  taught  the  catechism.  From  this  I  learned 
<hat  God,  from  all  eternity,  had  elected  some  men  and 
angels  to  everlasting  life,  and  passed  by  the  remainder, 
ordaining  them  to  eternal  death.  This  election  and  rep- 
robation was  unconditional.  Though  young,  I  could  not 
see  the  reason  or  justice  of  such  a  procedure  on  the  part 
of  God,  and  it  gave  me  a  very  unfavorable  impression  in 
regard  to  the  character  of  the  Supreme  Being.  I  recol- 
lect, distinctly,  of  being  harassed  with  fear,  under  the 
impression  that  God  had  decreed  I  should  commit  some 
crime,  and  be  hung  for  it.  Associated  with  this  was  the 
resolution,  on  my  part,  that  if  he  had  thus  decreed,  I 
would  always  be  the  enemy  of  God.  These  impressions 
arose  from  an  inability,  on  my  part,  to  reconcile  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  creature  for  the  commission  of  sins  which 
God  had  decreed  he  should  commit,  and  the  justice  of 
God  in  the  infliction  of  that  punishment. 

One  Sabbath  afternoon  my  father  called  us  up  to  repeat 
our  catechism,  as  was  his  custom.  After  the  lesson  was 
over,  he  called  me  to  him,  and  said,  "James,  do  you 
pray?"     I  replied,  "No,  father,  I  do  not." 

"Why  do  you  not  pray,  my  son?" 
11 


1G^  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

''Because  I  do  not  see  any  use  in  it.  If  I  am  one  of 
the  elect,  I  will  be  saved  in  God's  good  time;  and  if  I 
am  one  of  the  non-elect,  praying  will  do  me  no  good,  as 
Chiist  did  not  die  for  them." 

"But,  James,  you  do  not  know  whether  you  are  one  of 
the  eject  or  non-elect*  and,  as  God  has  wisely  concealed 
this  from  you,  you  ought  to  pray,  any  how." 

To  this,  of  course,  I  could  make  no  reply,  without  reit- 
erating my  former  declaration  of  the  needlessness  cl 
prayer. 

This  doctrine  had  well  nigh-ruined  me,  and  often  1 
was  harassed  with  doubt  and  temptation;  and,  at  times, 
almost  sunk  into  despair.  Sometimes  I  was  led  to  doubt 
the  very  existence  of  God.  The  Holy  Spirit  often  con- 
victed me,  and  I  felt  my  lost  and  undone  condition  as  a 
sinner.  These  convictions  were  deepened  and  strength- 
ened under  the  prayers  of  my  pious  grandmother,  an  ac- 
count of  whose  death  I  have  already  given.  Not  know- 
ing how  to  seek  the  Lord,  I  remained  in  this  wretched 
condition  till  I  was  fifteen  years  of  age.  At  this  time  I 
had  put  into  my  hands  Winchester's  Dialogues,  the  de- 
sign of  which  was  to  prove  the  final  redemption  from  hell 
of  all.  This  I  read  over  and  over  again  with  great  care, 
and  it  proved  a  sovereign  balm  to  all  my  fears.  It  rep- 
resented God  as  being  so  merciful,  that  it  inspired  a  love 
for  him,  and  I  became  a  convert  to  the  doctiite  of  the 
final  restoration  of  all  men  to  the  favor  of  God.  I  read 
the  Bible  to  establish  my  faith,  and  boldly  advocated  the 
doctrine  with  my  Calvinistic  associates,  many  of  whom  I 
was  enabled  to  overcome  with  my  arguments.  I  also 
took  occasion  to  show  up  the  glaring  inconsistencies  of  the 
doctrine  which  saved  or  damned  men  arbitrarily.  This, 
to  me,  was  wholly  incompatible  with  the  attributes  of  jus- 
tice and  mercy.  Many  of  my  companions  looked  upon 
my  views  with  favor,  and  were  pleased  with  my  profession 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  1C)3 

of  faith.  Finally  it  got  to  the  ears  of  my  parents  that  1 
had  become  a  believer  in  hell  redemption;  and  the  news 
also  spread  among  the  Seceders  and  Covenanters — all  of 
whom  were  Old  School  Calvinists — that  the  pastor's  sod 
had  become  a  renegade  from  the  faith  of  his  fathers. 
This  brought  me  into  a  new  field  of  conflict  with  -  older 
and  wiser  heads.  One  of  the  elders  attacked  me  at  a  log- 
rolling, and  I  thought  he  would  demolish  me,  and  make 
me  a  butt  for  ridicule.  I  told  him  I  was  but  a  boy,  and 
not  able  to  controvert  with  him,  but  if  he  would  answer 
one  or  two  questions,  I  would  be  pleased.  He  agreed  to 
my  proposal. 

Then  said  I,  "Did  Christ  die  for  all  men?" 

"No,  he  did  not  die  for  any  but  the  elect." 

"Will  the  reprobate  be  damned?" 

"Yes;  God,  for  the  praise  of  his  glorious  justice,  has 
decreed  their  damnation." 

"For  what  is  the  reprobate  damned?" 

"Because  it  is  so  decreed,  even  so,  according  to  the 
good  pleasure  of  God's  will." 

"  But  the  Scriptures  say  the  reprobate  is  damned  for 
unbelief.  'He  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned.'  Now, 
if  Christ  did  not  die  for  Lim,  according  to  your  system 
he  is  to  be  damned  for  not  believing  what  is  in  itself  not 
true.  In  other  words,  he  is  to  be  damned  for  not  believ- 
ing a  lie." 

At  this  he  seemed  confused,  and  finally  became  angry, 
and  said  if  I  was  his  son,  he  would  soon  whip  such  no 
tions  out  of  my  head.  I  told  him  he  could  not,  unless  it 
had  been  decreed.  After  this  I  became  very  obnoxious 
to  the  high-toned  Calvinists,  and  they  looked  upon  me  as 
very  dangerous  to  their  young  people.  This  increased 
my  prejudice,  and  excited  my  ambition,  and  I  sought 
every  opportunity  to  have  my  faith  confirmed,  so  that  J 
might  successfully  contend  with  my  opponents.     At  some 


164  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

times  my  faith  would  waver,  in  spite  of  all  my  effoits  tc 
bolster  it  up,  and  my  conscience  would  sting  me  with 
remorse.  The  thought  that  perhaps  the  doctrine  was  not 
true,  and  my  soul  would  be  lost,  would  produce  the  most 
intense  emotion  in  my  mind.  At  that  time  there  were 
none  of  those  last  and  worst  of  all  editions  of  Universal- 
ism,  namely,  that  all  will  be  saved,  no  matter  what  they 
believe,  or  what  they  do,  because  there  was  no  devil,  and 
no  hell ;  and,  hence,  none  could  go  to  a  place  which  has 
no  existence.  Such  doctrines  not  beinsr  taught,  I  could 
not,  of  course,  embrace  them ;  nor  do  I  believe  I  was  ever 
so  ignorant  or  wicked,  the  worst  day  I  ever  saw,  as  to  be- 
lieve a  doctrine  so  grossly  inconsistent  with  reason  and 
Scripture,  so  false  in  fact,  and  so  dangerous  in  tendency , 
but  I  thought  that  if  God  had  brought  me  into  the  world, 
without  my  consent,  for  his  own  purposes,  it  was  no  con- 
cern of  mine,  and  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  be  honest,  enjoy 
life,  and  perform  the  errand  of  my  destiny. 

Thus  I  entered  fully  and  freely  into  all  parties  of  pleas- 
ure, except  gambling,  and  although  I  could  hold  a  good 
hand  at  cards,  yet  to  play  for  stakes  I  had  no  relish. 
Indeed,  I  was  afraid  of  this,  for  I  always  thought  I  could 
see  the  devil  presiding  over  such  games.  Dancing  con- 
stituted my  chief  joy ;  to  enter  its  giddy  mazes,  and  enjoy 
its  frenzied  whirl,  afforded  me  the  most  pleasurable  ex- 
citement. Occasionally  I  would  take  a  spree;  would 
swear  when  angry ;  and  fight,  when  insulted,  at  the  drop 
of  a  hat.  Backwoods  boys  were  brought  up  to  the  trade 
of  "knock  down,  and  drag  out." 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  mirth  and  revelry  I  dared  not 
think  of  death  and  eternity.  The  thought  was  appalling, 
and  in  my  moments  of  calm  reflection  I  would  resolve 
upon  a  reformation  of  life.  A  strictly  moral  life  1  re- 
garded as  the  only  true  religion ;  and  I  believed  all  whe 
'eil  such  a  life  would  go  to  heaven. 


flEV.    JAMES    iJ.    UNLET.  165 

Thus  I  lived  thoughtless  and  wicked,  resolving  anu  re- 
resolving  upon  amendment,  but  continuing  <he  same,  or, 
rathtr,  growing  worse  and  worse,  till  I  arrived  at  the 
twentieth  year  of  my  age.  About  this  time  a  great  revi- 
val of  religion  broke  out  in  the  state  of  Kentucky.  Il 
was  attended  with  such  peculiar  circumstances  as  "to  pro- 
duce great  alarm  all  over  the  country.  It  was  reported 
that  hundreds  who  attended  the  meetings  were  suddenly 
struck  down,  and  would  lie  for- hours  and,  sometimes,  for 
days,  in  a  state  of  insensibility ;  and  that  when  they  re- 
covered and  came  out  of  that  state,  they  would  commence 
praising  God  for  his  pardoning  mercy  and  redeeming  love. 
This  exercise  was  accompanied  with  that  strange  and  un- 
accountable phenomenon  denominated  the  jerks,  in  which 
hundreds  of  men  and  women  would  commence  jerking 
backward  and  forward  with  great  rapidity  and  violence,  so 
much  so  that  their  bodies  would  bend  so  as  to  bring  their 
heads  near  to  the  floor,  and  the  hair  of  the  women  would 
crack  like  the  lash  of  a  driver's  whip.  This  was  not  con- 
fined to  any  particular  class  of  individuals,  but  saint, 
seeker,  and  sinner  were  alike  subject  to  these  wonderful 
phenomena. 

The  excitement  created  by  these  reports,  was  of  the 
most  intense  and  astonishing  character.  Some  thought 
that  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end ;  others  that  some 
dreadful  calamity  was  coming  upon  the  country  as  a  judg- 
ment of  God  on  the  nation;  others  still,  that  it  was  the 
work  of  the  devil,  who  had  been  unchained  for  a  season, 
and  assuming  the  garments  of  an  angel  of  light,  was  per- 
mitted to  deceive  the  ministers  of  religion  and  the  very 
elect  themselves.  Many  of  the  preachers  spent  whole 
Sabbaths  in  laboring  to  show  that  it  was  the  work  of  the 
devil,  and  nothing  but  the  wildest  fanaticism,  produced 
through  the  means  of  an  overheated  and  distempered  im- 
agination.    They  also  urged  their  congregations  not  to  go 


16G  AtJTOBIOGRArilY     OF 

near  these  places,  as  they  would  be  sympathetically 
affected,  and  would,  in  all  probability,  be  led  to  indulge 
in  the  same  wild  and  irrational  vagaries.  Their  instruc 
tions  and  exhortations,  however,  were  lost,  and  it  seemed 
that  the  exposition  only  increased  the  desire  of  thousands 
to  go  and  see  for  themselves. 

In  the  month  of  August,  1801,  I  learned  that  there  was 
to  be  a  great  meeting  at  Cane  Ridge,  in  my  father's  old 
congregation.  Feeling  a  great  desire  to  see  the  wonderful 
things  which  had  come  to  my  ears,  and  having  been  solic- 
ited by  some  of  my  old  schoolmates  to  go  over  into  Ken- 
tucky for  the  purpose  of  revisiting  the  scenes  of  my  boy- 
hood, 1  resolved  to  go.  Obtaining  company,  I  started 
from  my  woody  retreat  in  Highland  county.  Having 
reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  meeting,  we  stopped  and 
put  up  for  the  night.  The  family,  who  seemed  to  be 
posted  in  regard  to  all  the  movements  of  the  meeting, 
cheerfully  answered  all  our  inquiries,  and  gave  us  all  the 
information  we  desired.  The  next  morning  we  started 
for  the  meeting.  On  the  way  I  said  to  my  companions, 
"Now,  if  I  fall  it  must  be  by  physical  power  and  not  by 
singing  and  praying;"  and  as  I  prided  myself  upon  my 
manhood  and  courage,  I  had  no  fear  of  being  overcome  by 
any  nervous  excitability,  or  being  frightened  into  religion. 
We  arrived  upon  the  ground,  and  here  a  scene  presented 
itself  to  my  mind  not  only  novel  and  unaccountable,  but 
awful  beyond  description.  A  vast  crowd,  supposed  by 
some  to  have  amounted  to  twenty-five  thousand,  was  col- 
lected together.  The  noise  was  like  the  roar  of  Niagara. 
The  vast  sea  of  human  beings  seemed  to  be  agitated  as  if 
by  a  storm.  I  counted  seven  ministers,  all  preaching  at 
one  time,  some  on  stumps,  others  in  wagons,  and  one — the 
Rev.  William  Burke,  now  of  Cincinnati — was  standing  on 
a  tree  which  had,  in  falling,  lodged  against  another. 
Some   of  the  people   were  singing,  others  praying,  some 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  1G7 

prying  for  mercy  in  the  most  piteous  accents,  while  others 
were  shouting  most  vociferously.  While  witnessing  these 
scenes,  a  peculiarly-strange  sensation,  such  as  I  had  never 
felt  before,  came  over  me.  My  heart  beat  tumultuously, 
my  knees  trembled,  my  lip  quivered,  and  I  felt  as  though 
I  must  fall  to  the  ground.  A  strange  supernatural  power 
seemed  to  pervade  the  entire  mass  of  mind  there  collected. 
1  became  so  weak  and  powerless  that  I  found  it  necessary 
*o  sit  down.  Soon  after  I  left  and  went  into  the  woods, 
and  there  I  strove  to  rally  and  man  up  my  courage.  1 
tried  to  philosophize  in  regard  to  these  wonderful  exhibi- 
tions, resolving  them  into  mere  sympathetic  excitement — 
a  kind  of  religious  enthusiasm,  inspired  by  songs  and  elo- 
quent harangues.  My  pride  was  wounded,  for  I  had  sup- 
posed that  my  mental  and  physical  strength  and  vigor 
could  most  successfully  resist  these  influences. 

After  some  time  I  returned  to  the  scene  of  excitement, 
the  waves  of  which,  if  possible,  had  risen  still  higher. 
The  same  awfulness  of  feeling  came  over  me.  I  stepped 
up  on  to  a  log,  where  I  could  have  a  better  view  of  the 
surging  sea  of  humanity.  The  scene  that  then  presented 
itself  to  my  mind  was  indescribable.  At  one  time  I  saw 
at  least  live  hundred  swept  down  in  a  moment,  as  if  a 
battery  of  a  thousand  guns  had  been  opened  upon  them, 
and  then  immediately  followed  shrieks  and  shouts  that 
rent  the  very  heavens.  My  hair  rose  up  on  my  head,  my 
whole  frame  trembled,  the  blood  ran  cold  in  my  veins,  and 
I  lied  for  the  woods  a  second  time,  and  wished  I  had  staid 
at  home.  While  I  remained  here  my  feelings  became 
intense  and  insupportable.  A  sense  of  suffocation  and 
blindness  seemed  to  come  over  me,  and  I  thought  I  was 
going  to  die.  There  being  a  tavern  about  half  a  mile  off, 
I  concluded  to  go  and  get  some  brandy,  and  see  if  it 
would  not  strengthen  my  nerves.  When  I  arrived  there  J 
was  disgusted  with  the  sight  that  met  my  eyes.     Here  I 


1()8  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

saw  about  one  hundred  men  engaged  in  drunken  revelry, 
playing  cards,  trading  horses,  quarreling,  and  fighting. 
After  some  time  I  got  to  the  bar,  and  took  a  dram  and 
left,  feeling  that  I  was  as  near  hell  as  I  wished  to  be, 
either  in  this  or  the  world  to  come.  The  brandy  had  no 
effect  in  allaying  my  feelings,  but,  if  any  thing,  made  me 
worse.  Night  at  length  came  on,  and  I  was  afraid  to  see 
any  of  my  companions.  I  cautiously  avoided  them,  fear- 
ing lest  they  should  discover  something  the  matter  with 
me.  In  this  state  I  wandered  about  from  place  to  place, 
in  and  around  the  encampment.  At  times  it  seemed  as  it 
all  the  sins  I  had  ever  committed  in  my  life  were  vividly 
brought  up  in  array  before  my  terrified  imagination,  and 
under  their  awful  pressure  I  felt  that  I  must  die  if  I  did 
not  get  relief.  Then  it  was  that  I  saw  clearly  through  the 
thin  vail  of  Universalism,  and  this  refuge  of  lies  was 
swept  away  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  Then  fell  the  scales 
from  my  sin-blinded  eyes,  and  I  realized,  in  all  its  force 
and  power,  the  awful  truth,  that  if  I  died  in  my  sins  I 
was  a  lost  man  forever.     0,  how  I  dreaded  the  death  of 

the  soul;  for 

•    "There  is  a  death  whose  pang 
Outlasts  the  fleeting  breath: 
0  what  eternal  horrors  hang 
Around  the  second  death!" 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  my  heart  was  so  proud  and  hard 
that  I  would  not  have  fallen  to  the  ground  for  the  whole 
state  of  Kentucky.  I  felt  that  such  an  event  would  have 
been  an  everlasting  disgrace,  and  put  a  final  quietus  on 
my  boasted  manhood  and  courage.  At  night  I  went  to  a 
barn  in  the  neighborhood,  and  creeping  under  the  hay, 
spent  a  most  dismal  night.  I  resolved,  in  the  morning, 
to  start  for  home,  for  I  felt  that  I  was  a  ruined  man. 
Finding  one  of  the  friends  who  came  over  with  me,  I  said, 
"Captain,  let  us  be  off;  I  will  stay  no  longer."  He  as- 
sented, and  getting  our  horses  we  started  for  home.     We 


REV.   JAMES    B.    EtNLEY.  169 

said  but  little  on  the  way,  though  many  a  deep,  long- 
drawn  sigh  told  the  emotions  of  my  heart.  When  we 
arrived  at  the  Blue  Lick  Knobs,  I  broke  the  silence  which 
reigned  mutually  between  us.  Like  long-pent-up  waters, 
seeking  for  an  avenue  in  the  rock,  the  fountains  of  my  soul 
were  broken  up,  and  I  exclaimed,  "  Captain,  if  you  and 
I  don't  stop  our  wickedness  the  devil  will  get  us  both." 
Then  came  from  my  streaming  eyes  the  bitter  tears, 
and  I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  screaming  aloud.  This 
startled  and  alarmed  my  companion,  and  he  commenced 
weeping  too.  Night  approaching,  we  put  up  near  Mays- 
lick,  the  whole  of  which  was  spent  by  me  in  weeping  and 
promising  God,  if  he  would  spare  me  till  morning  I  would 
pray  and  try  to  mend  my  life  and  abandon  my  wicked 
courses. 

As  soon  as  day  broke  I  went  to  the  woods  to  prav,  and 
no  sooner  had  my  knees  touched  the  ground  than  I  cried 
aloud  for  mercy  and  salvation,  and  fell  prostrate.  My 
cries  were  so  loud  that  they  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
neighbors,  many  of  whom  gathered  around  me.  Among 
the  number  was  a  German  from  Switzerland,  who  had  ex- 
perienced religion.  He,  understanding  fully  my  condi- 
tion, had  me  carried  to  his  house  and  laid  on  a  bed.  The 
old  Dutch  saint  directed  me  to  look  right  away  to  the 
Savior.  He  then  kneeled  at  the.  bedside  and  prayed  for 
my  salvation  most  fervently,  in  Dutch  and  broken  English. 
He  then  rose  and  sung  in  the  same  manner,  and  continued 
singing  and  praying  alternately  till  nine  o'clock,  when 
suddenly  my  load  was  gone,  my  guilt  removed,  and  pres- 
ently the.  direct  witness  from  heaven  shone  full  upon  my 
soul.  Then  there  flowed  such  copious  streams  cf  love 
into  the  hitherto  waste  and  desolate  places  of  my  soul, 
that  I  thought  I  should  die  with  excess  of  joy.  I  cried, 
I  laughed,  I  shouted,  and  so  strangely  did  I  appear  to  ah, 
but  my  Dutch  brother,  that  they  thought  me  deranged. 
15 


170  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

After  a  time  I  returned  to  my  companion,  and  we  staitea 
on  our  journey.  0  what  a  day  it  was  to  my  soul !  The 
Sun  of  righteousness  had  arisen  upon  me,  and  all  nature 
seemed  to  rejoice  in  the  brightness  of  its  rising.  The 
trees  that  waved  their  lofty  heads  in  the  forest,  seemed  to 
bow  them  in  adoration  and  praise.  The  living  stream  of 
salvation  flowed  into  my  soul.  Then  did  I  realize  thf 
truth  of  that  hymn  I  have  so  frequently  sung: 

"i  feel  that  heaven  is  now  begun; 
It  issues  from  the  sparkling  throne — 

From  Jesus'  throne  on  high: 
It  comes  in  floods  I  can't  contain; 
1  drink,  and  drink,  and  drink  again, 
And  yet  am  ever  dry." 

I  told  the  captain  how  happy  I  was,  and  was  often  inter- 
rupted, in  a  recital  of  my  experience,  by  involuntary 
shouts  of  praise.  I  felt  a  love  for  all  mankind,  and  re- 
proached myself  for  having  been  such  a  fool  as  to  live  so 
long  in  sin  and  misery  when  there  was  so  much  mercy  for 
me. 

At  length  we  arrived  at  home,  and  I  told  my  wife  what 
great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for  me.  While  I  spoke 
she  commenced  weeping,  and  began  to  seek  the  Lord.  1 
also  told  my  brother  John,  and  soon  the  news  spread 
through  the  whole  neighborhood  that  Finley  had  obtained 
religion.  The  difficulties  the  Christian  has  to  encounter 
have  to  be  learned  by  experience.  When  I  was  converted, 
I  did  not  conceive  how  it  was  possible  that  even  a  single 
shade  of  trouble  could  cross  my  peaceful  breast.  I  soon 
found,  however,  that  the 

"  World  was  no  friend  to  grace, 
To  help  me  on  to  God ;" 

and  that  if  I  would  reign  as  a  king  and  priest  with  God 
and  the  Lamb  forever,  I  must  fight ;  'hat  the  only  way 
•x)  the  trown  was  by  the  cross.  There  were  no  religions 
persons  in  the  neighborhood,  and  no  religious  meetings  to 


REV.   JAMES    B.    FlNLEY.  171 

attend.  Peisecution  began  to  be  wiged  against  me,  and 
difficulties  rose  up  on  every  hand;  but  still  I  strove  to 
watch,  and  fight,  and  pray,  determined  never  to  give  the 
battle  over.  I  sent  to  my  brother,  and  persuaded  hm. 
and  another  young  man  to  come  and  unite  with  me  in 
holding  prayer  meeting,  in  the  woods,  on  SabLath.  One 
has  said, 

"The  groves  were  God's  first  temples;" 
and  heis,  with  no  eye  to  see,  and  no  ear  to  hear,  but  the 
great  Father,  we  held  many  meetings.  Still  I  felt,  deeply, 
the  need  of  Christian  society.  I  had  commenced  family 
prayer,  and  reading  the  Scriptures  whenever  I  had  a  leis- 
ure moment.  The  backwoods  Christian  is  shut  up  to  his 
Bible;  and  I  have  wondered  if  the  great  multiplication  of 
books  has  not  had  a  deleterious  tendency,  in  diverting  the 
mind  from  the  Bible;  just  as  the  multiplicity  of  benevo- 
lent associations  has  a  tendency  to  divert  the  mind  from 
the  Church.  This  should  not  be ;  and,  in  fact,  there  is  no 
necessity  for  it,  for  there  is  room  for  all  good  books  and 
good  associations,  as  auxiliaries. 

I  sighed  for  Church  privileges,  and  communion  with 
the  people  of  God.  I  could  not  join  the  Presbyterian 
Church ;  for  I  did  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  uncondi- 
tional election  and  reprobation.  I  went  to  a  New  Light 
camp  meeting,  to  see  if  I  could  find  a  home  among  that 
people ;  but  when  I  heard  their  doctrine  on  the  supreme 
divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  I  would  not  go  with  them;  for  ] 
w  is  well  assured,  if  Christ  was  not  God,  he  could  not 
save  me;  and  I  had  such  a  clear  and  powerful  demon- 
stration of  that  truth,  in  the  conversion  of  my  own  soul, 
that  I  could  never  doubt,  for  a  moment,  that  he  was  God, 
as  well  as  man.  So  I  bade  them  farewell,  and  returned 
home.  The  next  denomination  I  visited,  was  the  Shakina 
Quakers ;  but  their  worship  seemed  to  me  so  ridiculous,  i 
wuld  not  entertain  a  serious  thought  about  joining  them. 


1?3  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OV 

For  a  while  I  thought  I  would  try  and  tiavel  to  heaven 
alone.  Thus  I  continued  for  about  eighteen  months,  dur- 
ing which  time  the  prayer  meeting  was  discontinued.  My 
attention  was  directed  to  the  immorality  of  some  profess- 
ors of  religion,  known  by  the  name  of  Seceders,  which 
had  an  unhappy  effect  on  my  mind.  Some  of  them 
scarcely  had  the  form  of  godliness ;  the  power  they  never 
knew.  One  of  them  was  carried  home  intoxicated,  and 
the  next  Sabbath  I  saw  him  at  the  communion  table. 
This,  to  me,  was  a  p;reat  stumbling-block. 

Shortly  after  my  conversion  I  was  exercised  on  the  sub- 
ject of  preaching  the  Gospel,  and  so  much  so,  that  I  could 
not  rest,  day  or  night.  I  thought  it  a  temptation  of  the 
devil,  and  prayed  to  be  delivered  from  it,  but  I  could  not 
shake  off  the  conviction.  I  belonged  to  no  Church,  and 
consequently  there  was  no  way  of  getting  into  the  min- 
istry. I  once  opened  my  mind  to  a  Presbyterian  clergy- 
man, and  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  that  I  should  study 
theology  at  least  three  years,  before  I  could  be  at  all 
qualified  to  preach.  I  thought  it  would  be  folly  for  me 
to  make  the  attempt;  and  hence  I  resisted  the  call,  till, 
from  a  state  of  robust  health,  I  was  reduced  almost  to  a 
walking  skeleton.  I  had  lost  all  my  comfort,  and  became 
gloomy  and  desponding.  Religious  exercises  in  my  family 
became  a  great  task  and  burden.  One  morning  I  went 
out  into  the  woods,  and  there  told  my  Maker,  if  I  must 
preach  the  Gospel,  or  go  to  hell,  that  the  latter  must  be 
my  portion,  as  I  had  not  the  least  qualifications  for  the 
work.  Just  then  all  comfort  and  hope  left  me,  and  I  was 
so  miserable  that  I  wandered  in  the  woods  for  months, 
not  desiring  to  look  upon  the  face  of  any  human  being. 
Family  prayer  was  given  up,  and  then  followed,  in  the 
sad  train  of  evils  connected  with  backsliding,  the  aban- 
donment of  prayer  altogether,  and  a  return  to  my  former 
companions.     Tc  mitigate,  if  possible,  my  wretchedness 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLET.  173 

f  also  returned  to  my  former  practices,  and  realized,  with 
Virgil, 

"Facilis  descensus  Averni." 

The  road  to  hell  was  easy  of  access,  and  rapid  in  descent. 
I  went  to  a  dancing  party  in  the  neighborhood.  As  danc- 
ing was  one  of  my  greatest  besetments,  I  was  the  more 
easily  beguiled  by  Satan  to  enter  its  magic  circle.  I  had 
not  been  long  there  till  a  lady  invited  me  to  dance  with 
her.  I  remarked  that  if  she  would  get  some  one  to  dance 
with  my  wife,  I  had  no  objections  to  complying  with  her 
request.  With  much  persuasion  and  effort  on  the  part  of 
several,  they  succeeded  in  getting  her  out  on  the  floor, 
and  I  followed.  After  the  conclusion  of  the  first  set,  1 
felt  no  more  compunction  of  conscience,  and  concluded  I 
might  as  well  live  like  other  people,  and  that  there  was 
no  harm  in  indulging  in  such  innocent  amusements;  and 
if  there  was,  we  would  all  go  to  hell  together  in  accom- 
plished and  genteel  society.  Not  so,  however,  with  my 
poor  wife.  She  suffered  extremely  from  a  wounded  con- 
science, wept  nearly  all  night,  and  feared  she  had  denied 
her  Savior,  and  put  him  to  an  open  shame. 

Thus  I  pursued  the  way  of  sin,  seeking  happiness  m  its 
guilty  pleasures,  for  a  period  of  three  years.  My  eyes 
were  blinded,  my  heart  hard  as  adamant.  I  had  no 
peace,  no  hope,  and  was  without  God  in  the  world.  A 
thought  of  my  former  happiness  would  occasionally,  in 
hours  of  cool  reflection,  steal  over  my  spirit,  like  forgotten 
joys,  pleasant  but  mournful ;  while  the  joys  of  the  world 

were 

"Like  odor,  fled  as  soon  as  shed." 

[  felt  an  aching  void,  that  vanity  could  never  fill;  and 
often  did  I  sigh  for  those  halcyon  days  of  my  religious 
life  when  the  morning  dawn  and  the  evening  shades  wit- 
nessed my  devotions  to  God.  But  I  had  cast  away  my 
confidence,  and  relinquished  my  hold  on  heaven,  in  ex- 


1 74  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

change  for  the  short-lived  pleasures  of  sin,  and  a  desolate 
heart. 

In  the  fall  of  1808  brother  John  and  myself  started 
out  on  our  fall  hunt.  We  were  on  horseback,  and  follow- 
ing a  narrow  path.  I  was  a  few  paces  in  advance;  and, 
as  we  were  winding  up  through  the  thicket,  my  gun, 
which  was  on  my  shoulder,  went  off  suddenly.  In  the 
most  awful  suspense  I  ever  experienced  in  all  my  life,  I 
stopped,  and  listened  to  hear  my  brother  fall  from  his 
horse.  After  the  shock  was  over,  fearing  to  look  round, 
the  long  agony  was  broken  by  my  brother,  who  had 
recovered  from  the  shock,  saying,  "Brother  James,  I  am 
not  hurt."  This  relieved  me  for  the  moment,  but  my 
soul  was  soon  tossed  by  the  tumultuous  ragings  of  despair. 
All  my  sins  crowded  upon  me  like  so  many  demons  of 
darkness;  my  disobedience  to  God,  my  backslidings  all 
rose  before  me,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  hell  was  just  at 
hand,  and  that  soon  I  must  plunge  into  its  dismal  abodes. 
.No  imagination,  had  it  the  fervor  or  flight  of  a  Milton. 
or  Dante,  could  conceive,  or  pen  describe  the  horror  of 
darkness  and  despair  that  enveloped  my  wretched,  ruined 
•oul. 


KEY.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  175 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RELIGIOUS     LIFE     CONTINUED. 

Gloomily  and  sadly  I  traveled  on  in  silence,  under  the 
mountain  pressure  of  my  spirit-burden,  occasionally  an- 
swering a  question  from  my  brother.  After  having  ar- 
rived at  our  place  of  camping,  we  spanceled,  belled,  turned 
out  our  horses,  and  started  to  the  woods  in  different  direc- 
tions, to  hunt.  Having  obtained  what  I  desired,  which 
was  to  be  alone — for  the  heart  can  only  know  and  appre- 
ciate its  own  bitterness — I  realized,  if  possible,  an  increas- 
ing intensity  to  my  feelings  of  wretchedness,  and  my 
excited  imagination  filled  the  woods  with  demons  of  dark- 
ness. I  thought  I  could  feel  their  fearful  proximity,  and 
once  turned  round  to  see  if  I  could  not  discover  them  on 
my  track.  Just  then  this  temptation  was  suggested  to 
my  mind:  "You  are  one  of  the  reprobates;  Christ  never 
died  for  you ;  and  God  has  raised  you  up,  as  he  did  Pha- 
roah,  to  show  his  mighty  power,  in  your  eternal  destruc- 
tion. You  had  better  kill  yourself  with  your  gun,  and 
know  the  worst  of  your  wretched  state;  for  the  longer 
you  live,  the  more  sin  you  will  commit,  and,  hence,  the 
greater  will  be  your  damnation. "  This  temptation  came 
with  such  tremendous  force,  it  seemed  irresistible,  and  I 
was  on  the  point  of  yielding,  when,  doubtless,  my  heav- 
enly Father,  in  mercy,  interposed  a  thought  of  my  family. 
"How,"  thought  I,  "will  my  dear  wife  and  parents  feel, 
when  my  body  is  found,  perhaps  mangled  and  torn  by 
wild  beasts?"  Again  the  tempter  assailed  me  with  still 
greater  power;  so  much  so,  that  I  came  to  the  dreadfu/ 


176  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

conclusion  of  falling  by  my  own  hand.  While  in  the  very 
act  of  preparation  to  commit  the  fatal  deed,  my  blessed 
Lord — who  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  a  sinner — 
again  interposed,  and  the  following  words  came  to  my 
mind,  as  sensibly  as  if  audibly  pronounced:  "There  is 
yet  mercy  with  God,  if  you  will  seek  it."  At  this,  I 
threw  down  the  deadly  weapon,  fell  on  my  knees,  and 
prayed  for  mercy,  confessing  all  my  guilt  and  sin,  and 
sacredly  vowing,  if  God  would  restore  my  former  peace, 
I  would  do  any  thing  he  would  require:  ay,  that  ] 
would  even  try  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  his  Son.  1  was 
not  conscious  how  long  I  remained  in  this  state  of  agony 
and  prayer.  When  I  rose  from  the  ground,  I  picked  up 
my  gun,  ran  back  to  the  camp,  fired  it  off,  rolled  myself 
up  in  my  blanket,  and,  throwing  myself  on  the  ground, 
lay  there  till  my  brother  John,  who  hearing  the  report  of 
the  rifle,  came  into  camp.  When  he  arrived,  finding  me 
lying  down,  he  asked  me  if  I  was  sick,  or  what  was  the 
matter.  He  had  a  kind  of  presentiment  that  all  was  not 
right,  and,  hence,  he  hastened  to  the  camp  on  hearing 
the  report  of  the  gun.  I  told  him  I  did  not  know  what 
was  the  matter  with  me ;  but  ever  since  the  gun  had  gone 
off  in  the  morning,  I  felt  as  if  he  should  die,  and  go  to 
hell;  and  "0,  my  brother,"  said  I,  "if  the  ball  had  hit 
you,  you  would  have  been  in  torments  before  this  time  " 
This  seemed  to  convict  him  deeply ;  and,  as  we  were  both 
unfitted  for  hunting,  we  determined  on  returning  home- 
Still  I  had  no  peace,  and  I  prayed,  and  sought  foi 
mercy  day  and  night.  "The  -hand  of  the  Lord  waa 
heavy  upon  me."  I  read  the  Bible,  but  it  only  increased 
my  condemnation.  I  found  no  happiness  in  the  society 
of  any  one,  and  fled  to  the  woods  every  day.  I  did  not 
dare  to  take  my  gun  with  me,  for  fear  I  should,  in  the 
hour  of  the  power  of  darkness,  commit  suicide.  Instead 
of  this,  I  took  my  Bible ;  and  although  it  flashed  out  in 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN LEY.  177 

letters  of  fire  my  condemnation,  still  my  heart  clung  to  it 
as  my  only  hope.  The  weather  being  quite  cold,  and 
having  no  exercise,  I  would  crawl,  feet  foremost,  into  a 
hollow  log,  and  there  read,  and  weep,  and  pray.  In  this 
way  I  spent  three  weeks.  My  wife  and  friends  became 
alarmed  at  my  condition.  No  one  understood  my  state 
of  mind,  and  hence  there  were  none  to  administer  com- 
fort to  my  sin-sick  soul.  I  thought  I  had  committed  the 
unpardonable  sin,  and  despair,  with  its  gloomy  horrors, 
was  about  settling  down,  in  all  its  sullen  power,  upon  my 
soul,  when  some  friend  put  into  my  hands  "Russel's 
Seven  Sermons."  This  book  I  read  with  the  most  thrill- 
ing interest.  I  fairly  devoured  its  contents,  and  endeav- 
ored to  find  from  it  some  gleam  of  hope — 

"  Some  beam  of  day  to  shine  on  me, 
To  save  me  from  despair;" 

and  "as  cold  water  to  a  thirsty  soul,  or  good  news  from  a 
far  country,"  it  proved  a  balm  to  my  wounded  spirit. 
Hope  again  sprung  up  in  my  heart,  and  I  was  comforted 
with  the  conviction  that  God  would  have  mercy  and 
abundantly  pardon. 

One  day  my  wife  manifested  great  anxiety  to  have  me 
go  with  her  to  a  Methodist  prayer  and  class  meeting  about 
six  miles  distant,  but  my  prejudices  were  so  strong  against 
that  people  that  I  could  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  From 
the  various  reports  I  had  heard  concerning  the  Methodists, 
I  believed  they  were  the  worst  of  all  deceivers,  and,  if  pos- 
sible, they  would  deceive  the  very  elect  themselves.  On 
my  declining  she  was  much  affected,  and  went  out  and 
wept.  This  scene  moved  me,  and  I  relented  and  told  her 
to  get  ready,  and  I  would  get  the  horses  and  we  would 
start.  When  we  arrived  there  my  presence  seemed  to 
strike  all  with  dismay.  I  had  been  so  wicked  that  they 
had  all  given  me  up  to  Satan,  and  I  even  bore  the  cogno- 
qaen  of  "The  Newmarket  Devil."     The  general  inquiry 

12 


178  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

was,  "What  has  brought  him  to  meeting?"  The  time 
Lading  arrived  for  meeting  to  commence,  it  was  opened  bv 
singing  and  prayer.  I  conformed  to  the  rules,  for  I  never 
was  wicked  enough,  devil  though  I  was,  in  the  estimation 
of  the  people,  to  persecute  the  righteous,  or  show  my  ill- 
breeding  and  vulgarity  by  disturbing  a  worshiping  assem- 
bly, nor  would  I  suffer  any  one  else  to  do  it  where  I  was 
without  correcting  them.  After  several  prayers,  the 
leader — Mr.  Sullivan — rose  and  said,  "We  are  now  going 
to  hold  our  class  meeting,  and  all  who  have  enjoyed  this 
privilege  twice  or  thrice  will  please  retire,  while  those  who 
have  not  and  are  desirous  of  being  benefited  by  the  exer- 
cises may  remain."  I  was  anxious  to  be  benefited,  and 
being  favorably  impressed,  thus  far,  with  the  exercises, 
concluded  to  remain.  My  wife  also  kept  her  seat.  The 
members  of  the  class  eyed  me  very  closely,  and  I  could 
easily  tell  by  their  furtive  glances  that  my  room  would  be 
better  than  my  company.  The  leader,  as  is  customary 
on  such  occasions,  opened  the  speaking  exercises  by  relat- 
ing a  portion  of  his  own  experience,  in  which  he  spoke 
feelingly  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  his  soul.  After  this 
he  spoke  to  the  rest  in  order,  inquiring  into  their  spiritual 
prosperity ;  addressing  to  them  such  language  of  instruc- 
tion, encouragement,  or  reproof,  as  their  spiritual  states 
seemed  to  require.  It  was  a  time  of  profound  and  power- 
ful feeling ;  every  soul  seemed  to  be  engaged  in  the  work 
of  salvation.  I  was  astonished  beyond  all  expression. 
Instead  of  the  ranting,  incoherent  declarations  which  I 
had  been  told  they  made  on  such  occasions,  I  nevtr 
heard  more  plain,  simple,  Scriptural,  common-sense,  yet 
eloquent  views  of  Christian  experience  in  my  life.  Aftei 
all  the  members  had  been  spoken  to  the  leader  came  to 
me,  and,  in  a  courteous,  Christian  manner,  inquired  into 
my  religious  condition.  To  his  kind  inquiries  I  could 
only  reply  in  tears  and  sighs;   for  I  felt  as  if  my  very 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  179 

heart  would  burst  with  an  overwhelming  sense  of  my 
wretched  state.  Much  sympathy  was  awakened  on  my 
behalf,  and  many  prayers  offered  to  God  for  my  salvation. 

After  the  meeting  was  over  we  returned  home,  and,  as 
soon  as  I  could  put  up  the  horses,  I  went  out  to  the 
woods  to  pray.  Thus  I  continued  retiring,  as  usual,  to 
the  woods,  and-  spending  my  time  in  reading  the  Scrip- 
tures and  Russel's  Sermons,  and  prayer,  till  Thursday, 
which  I  set  apart  as  a  day  for  solemn  fasting,  humiliation, 
and  prayer.  The  most  of  the  day  was  spent  in  the  hollow 
log,  reading  the  Bible,  and  praying.  In  the  evening  1 
came  home,  and,  after  attending  to  some  duties,  went  ou( 
again  to  the  woods,  after  dark,  determined,  if  I  perished, 
to  perish  at  the  feet  of  mercy.  I  selected,  as  a  place  for 
my  supplications,  a  large  poplar-tree,  and,  getting  on  the 
opposite  side  from  the  wind,  I  scraped  away  the  snow, 
that  I  might  kneel  there.  Here  I  prayed  and  wrestled  till 
about  midnight,  when  I  felt  comforted.  My  load  of  sin 
was  gone,  and  the  sensations  of  cold  which  I  had  experi- 
enced were  also  gone.  The  weather  seemed  pleasant,  and 
balmy  as  spring.  I  arose,  and  went  home,  filled  with 
gratitude  to  God,  for  his  forgiving  mercy  and  redeeming 
love.  I  had  not  received  the  direct  witness  of  the  Spirit 
that  I  was  a  child  of  God,  but  yet  I  knew  my  sins  were 
pardoned.  I  found  my  wife  waiting  for  me,  and  we  re- 
tired to  rest.  Just  at  the  break  of  day  I  awoke,  and  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  tell  the  gratitude  I  felt  to  God,  that 
I  was  permitted  to  awake  out  of  hell ;  and  I  thought  ] 
would  express  my  feelings  to  my  wife,  when,  to  my  aston- 
ishment, I  found  her  convulsed  in  sorrow,  and  bathed  in 
tears. 

I  immediately  arose  for  the  purpose  of  going  to  my 
barn,  to  pray.  Just  as  I  passed  the  corner  of  the  house 
on  my  way,  suddenly  God  poured  upon  me  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  such  a  manner,  and  in  such  a  measure,  that  1 


180  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

fell,  my  whole  length,  in  the  snow,  and  shouted,  and 
praised  God  so  loud,  that  I  was  heard  over  the  neighbor- 
hood. As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  rise,  I  returned  to  the 
house,  and  my  wife  having  risen,  I  caught  her  in  my 
arms,  and  ran  round  the  house,  shouting,  "  Salvation  1 
salvation!  God  has  again  blessed  me  with  his  pardoning 
love."  No  doubt  many  would  have  said,  had  they  seen 
me,  "This  man  is  drunk  or  crazy."  But  I  was  not 
"drunk  with  wine,  wherein  is  excess;"  but  I  was  "filled 
with  the  Spirit."  For  an  hour  I  could  do  nothing  but 
praise  the  Lord.  While  thus  exercised,  I  felt  as  though 
some  one  had  spoken  to  me,  "  Go  preach  my  Gospel." 
I  instantly  replied,  "Yes,  Lord,  if  thou  wilt  go  with  me." 
I  did  not  stop  to  confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  hurried 
out,  as  fast  as  I  could,  to  my  nearest  neighbor,  and  called 
all  the  family  together,  and  told  them  all  that  God  had 
done  for  my  soul ;  and  to  all  within  my  reach  that  day  I 
proclaimed  a  risen  Savior,  who  had  power  on  earth  to  for- 
give sins.  This  produced  a  powerful  excitement  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  next  morning  my  brother  William 
and  his  wife,  on  their  way  to  a  Christmas  frolic,  called, 
and  I  persuaded  them  to  alight  and  warm  themselves. 
They  assented,  and  came  in.  So  soon  as  they  were 
seated,  I  closed  the  door,  and  commenced  preaching  to 
them  repentance  and  remission  of  sins,  and  related  what 
God  had  done  for  my  soul.  At  this  they  wept;  and, 
placing  before  them  chairs,  I  told  them  to  kneel  down, 
and  I  would  pray  for  them.  They  kneeled,  and  I  poured 
out  my  soul  to  God  in  their  behalf.  This  was  the  first 
mourner's  bench  I  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of.  I  per- 
suaded them  to  abandon  their  design  of  going  to  the 
Christmas  frolic,  and  go  home,  and  seek  the  salvation  of 
their  souls.  This  they  did,  and,  in  a  few  days,  found 
peace  in  believing.  I  then  invited  the  Methodists  to  come 
to  my  house  and  hold  prayer  meetings;  which  they  did. 


RET.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  181 

Then  I  went  to  the  place  where  the  circuit  preacher  had 
an  appointment.  After  preaching  he  held  class  meeting ; 
at  the  close  of  which  he  gave  an  invitation  to  any  who 
wished  to  join  the  society,  on  trial,  to  come  forward  and 
give  him  their  hand.  I  concluded  if  my  wife  would  join 
with  me,  I  would  give  the  Methodists  a  trial,  and  if  I 
liked  them,  I  would  make  that  Church  my  home.  Ac- 
cordingly I  went  to  my  wife,  and  asked  her  if  she  would 
join ;  and  on  her  assenting,  I  took  her  by  the  hand,  and 
we  went  up  together.  Several  others  followed  us,  and  the 
meeting  closed. 

I  commenced,  from  this  on,  to  hold  prayer  meetings  in 
my  own  house ;  and  had  not  kept  them  up  one  month,  till 
nineteen  of  my  relatives  and  neighbors  experienced  relig- 
ion. In  a  short  time  a  circuit  preacher  came  into  our 
neighborhood,  and  formed  us  into  a  class  or  society,  and 
appointed  me  the  leader.  This  was  an  entirely  new  thing 
to  us  all.  We  knew  but  little  of  the  Methodists  and  their 
usages;  and  all  we  could  learn  from  them,  coming  as  it 
did  through  a  prejudiced  medium,  only  had  a  tendency 
to  produce  the  same  results  in  our  own  minds;  but  we 
were  strangely  and  providentially  brought  in  the  way  of 
that  people,  and  now  were  connected  with  them  in  Church 
fellowship.  Of  those  who  composed  the  class,  none  but 
myself  and  wife  had  ever  been  in  one;  and,  hence,  class 
meeting  to  them  was  an  entirely  novel  thing.  I  appointed 
a  class  meeting,  the  next  Sabbath,  at  my  own  house. 
When  the  day  arrived,  the  whole  surrounding  country 
appeared  to  be  on  the  move.  The  people  came  from 
every  direction,  and  tilled  the  house  and  the  yard,  and 
the  lane  leading  thereto.  My  father  and  mother  botl 
wore  there. 

The  time  for  meeting  arrived.  With  palpitating  heart 
and  trembling  limbs,  I  arose,  gave  out  a  hymn,  which  we 
Jill  united  in  singing;  then  I  Doured  out  my  soul  to  God 


182  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

m  prayer,  asking  for  grace  and  wisdom,  to  enable  me  to 
discharge  the  onerous  duty  which  rested  like  a  mountain 
upon  me.  After  prayer  I  sang  again,  and  then  approach- 
ing my  venerable  father,  who  had  been  years  in  the  min- 
istry of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  I  inquired  how  his 
soul  prospered.  He  arose,  and  related  his  experience, 
the  various  trials  through  which  he  had  passed,  and  the 
wonderful  providences  of  God  in  his  behalf.  I  then  pro- 
ceeded to  my  mother,  who  had  previously  been  mucb 
afflicted  at  my  having  joined  the  Methodists;  but  she 
was  a  good  woman,  and  when  she  found  that  her  views 
of  that  people  had  been  formed  upon  incorrect  and  preju- 
diced reports,  she  confessed  her  error,  and  gladly  ac- 
knowledged them  the  people  of  God.  From  my  parents 
I  passed  round  to  each  one  in  the  house,  talking  and 
singing,  exhorting,  and  occasionally  shouting  the  praises 
of  God.  After  having  led  all  in  the  house,  I  went  out  to 
the  yard,  and  while  passing  round  there  among  my  neigh- 
bors, telling  them  what  God  had  done  for  my  soul,  and 
how  happy  I  was  in  religion,  my  father  continued  the 
meeting  in  the  house  by  singing  and  prayer.  From  the 
yard  I  passed  into  the  lane,  speaking  to  all  in  course. 
Many  would  turn  round,  and  lean  on  the  fence,  and  weep. 
Such  a  time  I  never  saw  before,  nor  have  I  seen  since. 
And  many  were  convicted,  and,  from  that  hour,  began  to 
seek  religion. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  general  class  meeting  was  held, 
I  was  required,  by  one  of  the  preachers,  to  take  a  text, 
and  try  to  preach.  This,  in  my  estimation,  was  getting 
along  a  little  too  fast;  but,  as  an  obedient  son  in  the  Gos- 
pel, I  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  and  endeavored  to  exhort 
the  people.  I  had  determined  to  face  duty  at  all  hazards ; 
and,  waiving  my  objections  to  the  superior  judgment  of 
one  who  had  been  in  the  work,  I  resolved  that  I  would 
try.     While  I  exhorted  sinners  to  flee  the  wrath  to  corae. 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  183 

many  wept,  and  shortly  after  were  happily  converted  tc 
God.  I  suffered  extremely  in  mind  from  this  effort,  and 
the  enemy  came  in  upon  me  like  a  flood.  I  ran  to  the 
woods,  wept  bitterly,  and  promised  the  Lord,  if  he  would 
forgive  me,  I  would  nevei  do  so  any  more. 

Soon  after  this  I  was  sent  for,  to  go  and  hold  a  meeting 
at  brother  Fowler's,  on  Straight  creek,  fourteen  miles  dis- 
tant. I  dare  not  refuse,  for  my  bitter  experience  before 
had  taught  me  that  if  I  refused  to  serve  God  in  the  Gos- 
pel of  his  Son,  the  same  awful  darkness  would  surround 
me.  Accordingly  I  put  on  my  hunting-shirt  and  moc- 
casins, and,  leaving  my  hunting  apparatus  at  home,  I 
started  before  t»day,  through  the  woods.  I  arrived  at  the 
place  of  meeting,  and  was  greeted  by  a  vast  concourse  of 
people,  who  had  congregated  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try to  hear  the  backwoods  preacher,  or  rather  to  hear  the 
wild  hunter  preach.  My  soul  sank  within  me  at  the  sight, 
and  I  ran  into  the  woods,  and  fell  on  my  knees,  invoking 
God,  with  all  my  heart,  to  grant  me  wisdom  and  strength 
for  the  great  work  before  me.  My  prayer  was,  "  0  Lord, 
thou  hast  sent  me,  and  now  I  pray  thee  to  help  me ;  for  1 
am  nothing,  and  helpless  as  a  child !  Glorify  thyself  in 
my  great  weakness."  I  then  returned,  and  took  the 
stand  in  the  cabin,  and  announced  my  text  as  follows : 
"Repent  ye  therefore,  and  be  converted,  that  your  sins 
may  be  blotted  out,  when  the  times  of  refreshing  shall 
come  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord."  Acts  iii,  19.  Al- 
though I  knew  little  concerning  the  theory  of  repentance, 
yet  I  had  a  deep  and  powerful  experience.  When  I  came 
to  speak  of  conversion,  and  the  blotting  out  of  sin,  with 
refreshing  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  my  soul  fired 
with  the  theme,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  shed  abroad  its  hal- 
lowed influences,  and  the  divine  power  pervaded  every 
heart,  so  that  all  the  house  were  more  or  less  affected : 
some    shout;ng   salvation,   and    others    crying    aloud    fur 


184  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    Of 

mercy.  The  meeting  lasted  till  evening,  and  I  announced 
that,  after  a  short  intermission,  we  would  have  a  prayei 
meeting.  When  the  time  arrived,  the  people  came 
together  again,  and,  during  the  exercises  of  singing, 
prayer,  and  exhortation,  many  were  converted,  and  one 
brother  professed  sanctification.  At  this  point  the  excite- 
ment increased,  and  several  were  taken  with  the  jerks. 
The  next  day  I  went  home  through  the  woods,  and  was 
so  happy  that  I  sung  and  shouted  alternately  during 
almost  the  entire  journey. 

About  this  time  I  was  visited  by  my  old  German  friend, 
at  whose  house  I  was  converted  in  Kentucky,  and  had  a 
most  delightful  interview.  He  was  deeplysexperienced  in 
the  things  of  God,  and  gave  me  much  important  instruc- 
tion. He  told  me  I  was  now  a  babe,  and  would  fre- 
quently be  alarmed,  and,  in  trying  to  walk,  would  be 
easily  thrown  down;  but,  like  the  child  learning  to  walk, 
I  must  not  be  discouraged,  but  get  up  and  try  again ;  that 
I  must  never  suppose  that  my  temptations  and  trials 
would  be  too  great  for  me  to  encounter ;  but  that,  by  en- 
durance, I  would  grow  stronger,  and  also  more  watchful. 
"The  devil,"  said  he,  "is  like  the  shepherd's  dog  in  Ger- 
many. He  will  sometimes  worry  the  sheep,  but  it  teaches 
them  to  keep  up  with  the  flock."  Revivals  of  religion 
he  said  were  like  a  strong  wind,  which  blows  the  trees  all 
one  way,  but,  as  soon  as  the  storm  is  over,  the  most  of 
them  will  fly  back.  He  said  I  had  to  be  drilled,  and  go 
into  the  army,  and,  as  a  faithful  soldier,  fight  against  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil.  "Now,"  said  he,  "you 
think  all  that  profess  religion  are  good  people;  but  there 
are  many  hogs  among  the  sheep,  and  you  may  be  able  to 
distinguish  between  them ;  for  when  a  hog  comes  to  a  mud- 
hole,  he  will  put  his  nose  into  it,  and  grunt,  and  lie  down 
in  it;  but  the  sheep  will  go  around  it,  as  they  do  not  like 
cbe   mud.     In  your   Christian  life  you  will  have   many 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    EINLEY.  135 

f,iou -\y  days.  Then  the  devil  will  come  to  you,  and  ask 
vou  to  settle  accounts  with  him.  He  will  accuse  you  of 
many  things,  and  try  to  make  you  believe  you  are  nothing 
but  a  painted  hypocrite,  and  never  had  any  religion.  You 
must  not  settle  with  the  devil  at  such  times,  for, -if  you 
do,  he  will  assuredly  cheat  you;  but  tell  him  to  go  away 
till  the  clouds  are  gone,  and  your  soul  is  happy,  and  then 
call  on  him."  These  with  many  other  good  things  he 
said  to  me,  and  they  were  of  essential  service  in  after  life. 

Our  con^reoations  became  so  lar^e  that  none  of  the 
cabins  in  the  neighborhood  could  accommodate  them. 
To  obviate  this  difficulty,  we  collected  together  and  put 
up  a  meeting-house ;  and  the  Lord  continued  to  revive  his 
work.  During  the  month  of  March  the  quarterly  meet- 
ing was  held  on  our  part  of  the  old  Scioto  circuit  at  Hills- 
boro.  To  this  meeting  I  resolved  to  go;  and  when  the 
time  arrived,  quite  a  number  of  us  started.  Arriving  at 
the  Rocky  fork  of  Paint  creek,  we  found  the  stream  over 
its  banks,  and,  as  it  was  impossible  to  ford,  and  no  craft 
of  any  description  being  at  hand,  my  company  turned 
back.  I  was  not,  however,  so  easily  discouraged.  I  had 
set  my  heart  upon  the  meeting,  and  I  was  determined  on 
getting  there,  at  all  hazards.  Riding  into  the  water, 
which  had  overflowed  the  bottoms,  I  came  to  a  tree 
which  had  been  washed  out,  and  lodged  across  the  main 
channel,  connecting  with  another  tree  on  this  side  of  the 
creek.  Riding  to  the  hill  out  of  the  water,  I  took  off  the 
saddle  and  bridle,  and  turned  my  horse  loose,  then  climb- 
ing up  a  sapling  and  bending  it  down,  I  tied  them  to  the 
top,  and  let  them  swing  up.  Then  I  waded  out  to  the 
tree,  climbed  up  it,  got  into  the  top  of  the  other,  went 
down,  passed  over,  and  waded  out  to  dry  land.  I  was 
extremely  wet  and  cold,  but  I  fell  on  my  knees,  thanked 
God,  and  went  on  my  way. 

Just  as  I  entered  the  meeting-house  the  presiding 
16 


186  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

elder— Rev.  John  Sale — was  reading  his  text  from  the 
eighty -fourth  Psalm:  ''The  Lord  God  is  a  sun  and  shield; 
the  Lord  will  give  grace  and  glory ;  no  good  thing  will  he 
withhold  from  them  that  walk  uprightly."  I  was  greatly 
refreshed  and  benefited  by  this  discourse.  When  he  con- 
cluded, to  my  great  astonishment,  one  of  the  preachers 
present  called  to  me  to  come  and  exhort,  and  close  the 
meeting.  I  was  overwhelmed  for  a  moment,  and  scarcely 
knew  what  to  do :  but  I  dare  not  refuse ;  so  I  went,  and 
told  my  old  companions  in  sin  what  great  things  the  Lord 
had  done  for  my  soul,  and  what  he  was  willing  to  do  for 
each  and  every  one  of  them.  While  I  was  speaking,  the 
Lord  blessed  me  abundantly,  and  many  hard-hearted  sin- 
ners wept.  On  Sabbath  morning  the  love-feast  was  to  be 
held.  This  was  entirely  new  to  me,  as  I  never  had  been 
in  one  before.  It  was  a  most  deeply-interesting  occasion. 
As  one  after  another  spoke  of  the  goodness  of  God,  my 
soul  swelled  with  gratitude  and  joy,  and,  being  unable  to 
contain  myself  any  longer,  I  sprang  from  my  seat,  and 
shouted  the  praises  of  God  with  an  overflowing  heart. 
The  excitement  at  this  point  rose  to  its  greatest  hight, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  between  the  shouts 
of  joy  and  the  cries  for  mercy.  I  thought  and  felt  as  if 
heaven  had  come  down  to  earth.  In  the  afternoon  the 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper  was  administered ;  and  as 
1  never  had  partaken  of  this  holy  communion  before,  it 
was  a  time  of  great  self-examination,  and  deliberate,  sol- 
emn consecration  to  God  on  my  part.  I  was  much  blessed 
in  partaking  of  the  emblems  of  the  broken  body  and  shed 
blood  of  my  Redeemer. 

A  little  circumstance  occurred  while  I  was  at  this  meet- 
ing, which  tended  wonderfully  to  confirm  my  faith  in  re- 
gard to  trust  in  God  for  temporal  blessings.  When  I  left 
hoine.l  had  but  fifty  cents  in  my  pocket,  which  I  was 
tuking  to  Hillsboro,  for  the  purpose   of  payirg  a  debt. 


REV.    JAMES    B       FINLEY.  187 

When  the  collection  was  taken  up  on  Sabbath,  a  struggle 
ensued  in  my  mind  as  to  whether  I  should  throw  it  intc 
the  treasury  of  the  Lord  or  reserve  it  for  the  purpose  of 
paying  a  just  debt.  I  did  not  suppose  that  the  payment 
of  one  debt  would  cancel  another.  On  the  subject  of  my 
indebtedness  to  the  Gospel  there  was  no  doubt ;  but  as  1 
could  not  meet  both  demands  at  the  same  time,  it  was 
suggested  that  I  pay  the  man  to  whom  I  owed  the  sum  I 
possessed  first.  At  the  same  time  it  was  suggested  that  I 
contribute  it  to  the  support  of  the  Gospel  and  trust  the 
Lord.  The  latter  suggestion  prevailed,  and  I  threw  it 
into  the  Lord's  treasury.  The  next  morning  a  man  came 
to  me  who  owed  me  a  dollar  and  a  half,  a  debt  which  I 
had  long  regarded  as  lost,  and  never  expected  to  receive 
one  cent.  I  then  said  instantly,  "Here  is  my  fifty  cents 
and  a  dollar  in  the  bargain."  So  I  paid  my  debt  and  real- 
ized that  they  who  trust  in  God  shall  never  be  con- 
founded. 

From  this  meeting  I  returned  home,  found  my  bridle 
and  saddle  where  I  had  left  them,  and  my  horse  in  the 
stable.  About  this  time  my  old  associates,  who  had  tried 
every  scheme  to  get  me  back  to  the  beggarly  elements  of 
the  world,  as  a  last  resort  thought  they  would  try  perse- 
cution. They  sought  to  lay  every  temptation  in  my  way, 
and  on  all  occasions  abused  and  slandered  me  for  the  pur- 
pose of  rousing  me  to  anger.  The  grace  of  God,  how- 
ever, was  sufficient,  and  failing  to  accomplish  their  purpo- 
ses they  became  divided  among  themselves.  On  one 
occasion  a  wicked  man  came  to  the  place  where  I  was 
working  on  the  road,  in  company  with  the  neighbors  of 
the  district,  and  pushing  me  violently,  cursed  me  for 
a  Methodist  dog.  I  stepped  away  and  said  nothing.  At 
this  another  man  stepped  up  to  the  one  who  had  abused 
me  und  cursed  him  for  a  coward,  remarking,  "Six  months 
ago  you  would  no  more  have  dared  to  do  what  you  havo 


188  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

done  to  Finley,  than  you  would  to  put  your  head  in  the 
fire ;  for  he  would  have  knocked  all  your  teeth  down  youi 
throat  in  an  instant;  and  if  you  insult  him  again  I  will 
whip  you  like  a  dog."  This  same  man  went,  on  election 
day,  to  another  fellow  who  was  in  the  habit  of  abusing 
me  by  the  most  opprobrious  epithets,  and  said  to  him,  "R., 
the  Methodists  had  a  council  last  night,  and  have  come  to 
the  conclusion,  that  inasmuch  as  you  are  constantly  abus- 
ing Finley,  that  if  you  do  so  again  they  have  given  him 
the  liberty  to  give  you  a  sound  flogging,  and  they  will  not 
Church  him  for  it.  Now,  I  advise  you  as  a  friend,  if  you 
wish  to  keep  a  whole  hide,  to.  keep  out  of  his  way."  At 
night  he  told  me  he  had  seen  R.,  and  related  what  he  had 
said  to  him.  I  told  him  he  did  wrong,  for  the  Methodists 
had  done  no  such  a  thing.  He  said  he  knew  that,  but 
he  was  determined  to  cool  the  fellow  off.  I  give  these 
incidents  as  a  specimen  of  some  of  the  trials  I  had  to  en- 
counter in  the  onset  of  my  career  as  a  Christian. 

I  was  greatly  exercised,  at  times,  about  my  call  to 
preach,  and  passed  through  some  of  the  most  severe  con- 
flicts, lasting  for  whole  weeks  together.  I  still  held  prayer 
meetings  and  exhorted,  and  occasionally  tried  to  preach. 
My  father  had  joined  the  Methodist  Church,  and  fre- 
quently lectured  and  preached.  On  one  occasion,  at  0111 
meeting,  he  tried  to  reconcile  the  Calvinistic  notion  of  im- 
puted righteousness  with  Wesley's  teaching,  and  put  a 
construction  on  Wesley's  words  which,  whether  legitimate 
ar  not,  was  not  Methodistic,  according  to  my  notion  of 
things.  As  soon  as  he  was  through,  I  rose  in  the  congre- 
gation and  said,  "Father,  you  can  no  more  reconcile  Cal- 
vin and  Wesley  than  you  can  darkness  and  light,  or  erroi 
and  truth,  and  there  is  no  use  of  your  trying  to  do  so. 
Permit  me  to  say,  if  you  are  a  Methodist  be  one,  and  if 
you  are  a  Calvinist  be  one,  for  I  want  truth  to  prevail 
every- where,  and    every  man  to  be  really  what  he  is/' 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  180 

I  felt  .somewhat  unpleasant  concerning  this  attack  on 
my  father,  but  I  had  great  zeal  for  the  truth  which  had 
made  me  free.  This  Scripture  was  also  applied  to  my 
mind:  "He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than 
me,  is  not  worthy  of  me."  After  many  hard" struggles 
of  mind  in  regard  to  giving  myself  up  exclusively  to 
the  work  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  I  settled  into  an 
acquiescence  to  the  Divine  will.  I  thought  I  could 
labor  as  a  local  preacher  around  the  country,  and  enjoy 
all  the  benefits  and  blessings  of  domestic  life ;  and  yet  I 
fel*  if  it  was  woe  with  me  if  I  did  not  preach  the  Gospel, 
mat  the  same  necessity  which  drove  me  into  the  field 
would  compel  me  to  constant  labor. 


190  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OS 


C  H  A  P  T  E  R  X. 

ITINERANT     LIFE. 

On  the  solicitation  of  many  friends,  and  the  urgent 
♦equest  of  Rev.  John  Sale,  the  presiding  elder,  I  con- 
sented, for  a  short  time,  to  travel  the  Scioto  circuit,  i 
ieft  home  on  the  first  day  of  May,  1809,  hoping  that  in 
the  fall  there  would  be  no  need  of  my  poor  services,  and 
I  could  return  to  the  quiet  pursuits  of  domestic  life.  My 
first  appointment  was  at  the  house  of  brother  William 
Lucas.  When  the  hour  for  meeting  arrived,  I  went  to 
the  woods  and  prayed  most  devoutly  that  no  one  might 
come  to  the  meeting;  but  my  prayer  was  not  answered, 
for  the  people  came  from  all  directions,  and  it  appeared  to 
me  that  the  cross  was  so  heavy  it  would  crush  me  to  the 
earth.  Nevertheless,  I  was  obliged  to  take  it  up  and  bear 
it;  and  although  my  sermon  was  without  form  and  void, 
yet  God  blessed  the  blundering  effort  and  gave  me  favor 
in  the  sight  of  the  people.  I  went  on  to  the  next  appoint- 
ment, and  attended  to  the  duties  of  a  traveling  preacher, 
but  had  no  comfort.  My  mind,  for  three  weeks,  was  con- 
stantly harassed  by  the  enemy,  and  alternated  between 
hope  and  despair.  Thus  I  continued  till  I  arrived  at  West 
Union,  and  here  a  fresh  trial  awaited  me.  The  meeting 
was  held  in  brother  Shultz's  house,  and  when  I  rose  up 
to  commence  the  exercises,  who  should  confront  me  but 
Mr.  John  Campbell,  a  lawyer,  subsequently  a  judge  but 
now  deceased,  who  had  come  expressly  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  down  my  sermon  in  short  hand !  He  was  one  of 
my  former  most  intimate  friends.     My  thoughts  became 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY. 


191 


confused;  all  my  arrangements  passed  away  from  my 
memory.  Had  I  not  been  impelled  by  a  sense  of  dutv 
too  strong  to  be  overcome  by  any  temporal  consideration, 
I  never  would  have  undertaken  to  preacb  at  that  time. 
But  I  had  passed  the  Rubicon — had  given  myself  wholly 
to  the  Lord,  and  was  not  going  to  take  back  what  I  had 
done.  Lifting  my  heart  to  God  for  grace  and  strength,  I 
commenced.  I  knew  that,  although  in  some  of  the  sci- 
ences he  was  greatly  my  superior,  in  the  science  of  salva- 
tion I  had  the  advantage,  and  could  instruct  him  in  things 
concerning  which  he  knew  nothing.  I  accordingly  took  a 
passage  of  Scripture  which  led  me  to  speak  of  the  new 
birth,  and  this  opened  up  the  way  for  me  to  give  a  relation 
of  my  experience,  and  to  show  the  goodness  and  power 
of  God  as  manifested  in  my  conversion.  The  sermon 
seemed  to  make  a  good  impression  on  all  in  the  house, 
and  many  were  excited  to  tears. 

I  continued  to  travel  and  preach  without  any  license 
whatever  till  August,  when  a  camp  meeting  was  held  on 
Benjamin  Turner's  place,  in  the  valley  of  Paint  creek, 
where  I  received  license  as  a  local  preacher  in  due  form 
from  the  quarterly  meeting  conference,  and  my  papers 
were  made  out  and  signed  by  the  Rev.  John  Sale.  The 
same  conference  recommended  me  as  a  suitable  person  to 
be  received  on  trial  into  the  traveling  connection.  While 
the  preachers  were  gone  to  the  annual  conference,  I  con- 
tinued on  the  circuit,  filling  the  appointments  in  regulai 
order.  Every  day  I  prayed  most  fervently  that  if  it  was 
not  the  will  of  God  that  I  should  devote  myself  exclu- 
sively to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  that  he  would  shut  the 
door  against  me  at  conference,  and  I  very  much  desired 
that  such  a  result  would  happen.  Having  finished  my 
round  I  turned  my  face  homeward,  but  I  had  no  soonei 
reached  my  residence  than  my  wife  informed  me  that 
brother  Collins  had  passed  on  his  way  from  conference 


192  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

and  had  left  a  few  lines  for  me.  My  heart  beat  violently 
as  I  opened  and  read  the  contents  of  the  letter.  It  stated 
that  I  was  appointed  to  Wills  Creek  circuit,  to  travel 
alone.  Can  it  be  possible,  thought  I,  that  the  bishop  has 
sent  me  to  that  charge  alone,  with  all  my  ignorance  and 
inexperience?  The  nearest  appointment  on  the  circuit, 
was  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  home,  and  to  move 
my  family  that  distance  would  be  a  considerable  under- 
taking; beside  my  utter  want  of  qualification  to  superin- 
tend a  circuit,  made  me  feel  extremely  unpleasant.  A 
great  conflict  arose  in  my  mind,  whether  I  should  go  01 
not.  I  supposed  the  bishop  was  not  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  the  facts  in  the  case,  and  that  the  partiality 
of  my  friends  induced  him  to  make  an  appointment  which 
never  would  have  resulted  from  personal  knowledge  of  my 
incapacity.  I  took  the  whole  subject  before  the  Lord  in 
prayer.  After  family  worship  I  went  into  the  loom-house 
and  commenced  praying  to  God  to  give  me  some  sun, 
indication  in  regard  to  his  will  in  this  matter.  I  wrestled 
all  night  in  supplication,  but  found  no  relief.  Morning 
came,  and  I  went  into  my  house  and  sat  down  by  the 
table,  on  which  was  the  family  Bible,  almost  distracted, 
1  asked  the  Lord,  if  there  was  a  promise  in  that  book 
which  would  give  me  direction  and  settle  the  doubtful 
state  of  my  mind,  to  direct  me  to  it.  On  opening  the 
Bible,  the  first  passage  on  which  my  eyes  fell  was  Deuter- 
onomy xxxiii,  25:  " Thy  shoes  shall  be  iron  and  brass;  and 
as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  This  promise  was 
applied  to  my  heart  by  the  Holy  Spirit  with  tremendous 
power,  and  I  shouted  and  praised  God  with  all  my  soul. 
My  doubts  and  fears  all  left  me,  and  I  told  my  beloved 
tfife  that  I  now  had  faith  to  believe  that  God  would  take 
care  of  me  and  guide  me  aright. 

.As  soon  as  I  could  get  all   things   in  readiness  I  pre- 
pared to  start  for  mv  circuit.     1  shall  never  forget  the 


EEV.    „AMES    B.    FINLEY.  193 

parting  scene.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  about  to  leave 
the  world  and  part  from  all  my  relatives,  and  wife,  and 
\\V.\e  daughter  forever.  After  prayer  I  rose,  embraced 
them  all,  mounted  my  horse,  and  started.  After  riding 
some  distance,  I  came  to  a  point  where  the  road  diverged, 
and  desiring  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  loved  ones  behind, 
I  turned  and  saw  them  weeping.  It  was  a  severe  strug- 
gle with  nature,  but  grace  proved  triumphant,  and  I  jour- 
neyed on. 

Several  days'  travel  brought  me  to  Zanesville,  the  prin- 
cipal appointment  on  my  circuit.  When  I  arrived  in  town 
it  was  raining  hard.  In  lieu  of  an  overcoat,  to  protect  me 
from  the  storm,  I  had  procured  a  blanket,  and  cutting  a 
hole  in  the  middle  of  it,  I  thrust  my  head  through  it  and 
found  it  a  good  protection.  Riding  up  to  the  door  of  one 
of  the  principal  Methodists  of  the  place,  I  asked  for  lodg- 
tngs,  informing  the  brother  that  the  conference  had  sent 
me  there  as  the  preacher.  Eyeing  me  closely  from  head 
to  foot,  he  replied,  "You  look  like  any  thing  else  than  a 
preacher."  I  told  him  he  should  not  judge  too  rashly,  as 
he  might,  perhaps,  think  better  of  me  on  a  closer  exam- 
ination, and  I  suggested  the  propriety,  at  least,  of  his  giv- 
ing me  a  fair  trial.  To  this  he  assented,  and  I  tarried 
with  him.  The  next  day  being  Sabbath,  I  preached,  in 
the  morning,  in  the  log  court-house,  and,  after  leading  the 
class,  rode  six  miles  to  brother  Joseph's,  where  I  preached 
again  in  the  afternoon  and  met  class. 

Wills  Creek  circuit  was  formed  by  the  Rev.  James 
Watts,  and  was  computed  to  be  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  miles  round.  Its  route  was  as  follows:  Bemnnino;  at 
Zanesville  and  running  east,  it  embraced  all  the  settle- 
ments on  each  side  of  the  Wheeling  road,  on  to  Salt  creek 
and  the  Buffalo  fork  of  Wills  creek ;  thence  down  to 
Cambridge  and  Leatherwood,  on  Stillwater;  thence  lo 
Barnesville    and    Morristown ;    thence    down    Stillwater, 

13 


iJH  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

U  eluding  all  the  branches  on  which  there  were  settlements, 
c  the  mouth ;  thence  up  the  Tuscarawas,  through  New 
Philadelphia,  to  One-lgeg  Nimishilling;  thence  up  Sandy 
to  Canton,  and  on  to  Carter's ;  thence  to  Sugar  creek,  and 
down  said  creek  to  the  mouth  ;  thence  down  the  Tusca- 
rawas to  William  Butts's,  and  thence  down  to  the  mouth 
of  Whitewoman ;  thence,  after  crossing  the  river,  includ- 
ing all  the  settlements  of  the  Wapatomica,  down  to  Zanes- 
ville,  the  place  of  beginning. 

I  entered  upon  this  work  with  great  fear  and  trembling. 
No  where,  in  all  the  round,  could  I  find  a  place  for  my 
family  to  live,  and  hence  I  wras  driven  to  the  necessity  of 
building  a  cabin,  which  I  located  on  the  Leatherwood  fork 
of  Wills  creek,  fourteen  miles  west  of  Barnesville.  Af- 
ter getting  it  ready  for  occupancy,  I  wrote  to  my  father, 
requesting  him  to  bring  my  family,  and  after  a  separation 
of  four  months  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  again. 
We  toot  possession  of  our  humble  cabin,  twelve  by  four- 
teen feet,  which  proved  sufficiently  capacious,  as  we  had 
nothing  but  a  bed  and  soue  wearing  apparel.  My  funds 
being  all  exhausted,  I  sold  the  boots  off  my  feet  to  pur- 
chase provisions  with ;  and  after  making  all  the  prepara- 
tion that  I  could  to  render  my  family  comfortable,  started 
out  again  upon  my  circuit,  to  be  absent  four  weeks. 

Instead  of  taking  a  circuitous  route  to  reach  my  ap- 
pointments, I  proceeded  across  the  country  through  the 
woods,  and  after  traversing  hills  and  vales,  without  a  path 
to  guide  me,  I  was  thrown  considerably  out  of  my  course. 
About  sunset  I  struck  a  trace  leading  from  Cambridge  to 
Cadiz,  and  night  overtaking  me  as  I  was  following  this 
path,  I  came  to  the  cabin  of  an  old  Irish  gentleman,  a 
Roman  Catholic.  On  entering  this  habitation  in  the 
woods,  I  found  the  family  at  their  evening  repast.  They 
occupied  one  side  of  the  fireplace,  and  a  calf,  which  was 
dust  eating  a  mess  of  pumpkins,  occupied  the  other.     1 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  195 

was  invited  to  join  in  the  evening  meal,  which  I  did  with 
good  relish,  as  I  had  eaten  nothing  during  the  day.  After 
supper  was  ended  I  asked  the  old  gentleman  in  regard  to 
his  nativity,  his  religious  profession,  etc.  On  his  inform- 
ing me  that  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  I  inquired  how  he 
got  along  without  his  confession.  At  this  he  became  vis- 
ibly agitated,  and  informed  me  he  had  not  seen  a  priest 
for  years;  but  that  he  was  laying  up  money  to  go  to 
Pittsburg  to  obtain  absolution.  I  then  asked  him  if  he 
had  ever  experienced  the  new  birth,  or  if  he  had  been 
born  again.  To  this  question  he  seemed  unable  to  give 
an  answer,  and*  manifested  still  more  uneasiness.  H* 
asked  me  what  I  meant;  for,  said  he,  ''I  am  now  seventy 
years  old,  and  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  in  all  my  life." 
Becoming  alarmed  he  called  his  son  John.  I  told  him  he 
need  not  be  excited,  as  I  would  do  him  no  harm.  He 
then  asked  me  if  I  was  a  minister.  I  told  him  I  tried  to 
speak  to  the  people  and  teach  them  the  way  of  salvation 
by  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  whole  family 
seemed  to  be  alarmed  at  the  conversation ;  but  I  spoke 
kindly  to  them ;  and  after  their  fears  were  somewhat  qui- 
eted I  took  out  my  Bible,  and  reading  a  part  of  the  third 
chapter  of  John,  I  spent  an  hour  in  explaining  to  them 
the  nature  and  necessity  of  the  new  birth.  The  family 
listened  to  all  I  had  to  say  with  .the  most  profound  atten- 
tion, and  silence  was  only  interrupted  by  their  sighs  and 
tears.     After  prayer  we  all  retired  to  rest  for  the  night. 

In  the  morning,  previous  to  leaving,  the  old  gentleman 
invited  me  to  preach  for  the  neighborhood  when  I  came 
i  mnd  the  next  time,  which  I  promised  to  do,  enjoining  on 
him  and  his  family  the  necessity  of  prayer  to  God. 

Nothing  worthy  of  particular  note  occurred  till  I  re- 
turned to  this  house.  I  found,  at  the  time  appointed,  a 
large  collection  of  people,  and  preached  to  them  salvation 
in  the  name  of  Jesus.     The  Lord  attended  his  word  with 


196  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

power  to  the  hearts  of  the  people ;  many  were  awakened, 
and  a  good  work  began.  Soon  after  the  old  gentleman 
experienced  religion,  and  also  his  son  John;  and  they, 
with  other  members  of  the  family,  joined  the  Church. 
The  father  lived  a  consistent  life  and  died  a  happy  death, 
and  the  son  became  a  talented  and  useful  exhorter. 

Many  were  the  difficulties  I  had  to  encounter  in  travel- 
ing this  circuit.  The  country  was  new,  and  the  people 
were  generally  ignorant  and  wicked.  Sometimes  while 
trying  to  preach,  they  would  interrupt  me  by  cursings  and 
inockings,  and  frequently  they  would  threaten  me  with 
chastisement,  but  none  of  these  things  moved  me.  My 
want  of  experience  and  conscious  inability  to  preach  the 
Gospel  as  a  workman  that  need  not  be  ashamed,  led  me 
to  seek,  with  great  earnestness,  the  sanctifying  influences 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  to  devote  every  spare  hour  to 
the  study  of  the  Bible.  My  place  of  study  was  the  forest, 
and  my  principal  text-books  the  Bible,  Discipline,  doc- 
trinal tracts,  and  the  works  of  Wesley  and  Fletcher. 
Often,  while  in  the  woods  reading  my  Bible  on  my  knees, 
and  praying  to  God  for  the  wisdom  that  comcth  down 
from  above,  was  my  heart  comforted.  My  feeble  efforts 
were  abundantly  blessed,  and  many  seals  were  given  to 
my  ministry.  The  Lord  revived  his  work  at  several  ap- 
pointments and  opened  my  way,  giving  me  access  to  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  At  one  time  I  made  an  appointment 
on  Sugar  creek,  but  when  I  came  to  it  there  was  no  house 
for  me  to  preach  in.  Accordingly  I  called  the  people 
together  under  a  large  oak  in  a  small  prairie.  The  people, 
however,  would  not  come  near  me,  but  stood  in  the  plum 
bushes  around,  and  I  preached  to  them,  in  their  hiding- 
places,  Jesus  Christ  and  the  resurrection.  At  my  second 
appointment  they  seemed  less  fearful,  and  I  gained  sc 
much  on  their  confidence  that  I  ventured  to  make  an  ap- 
pointment for  my  next  round  at  Mr.  Cory's  house. 


REV.   JAMES    B.   FINLEY.  197 

When  I  arrived  the  people  had  collected,  and  aftei 
preaching  to  them,  I  proposed  holding  class  meeting.  I 
began  with  an  old  German,  named  Baker,  and  afterward 
spoke  to  his  son  Jacob.  While  talking  to  Jacob,  the  old 
man  exclaimed,  "Jake,  if  you  and  I  don't  do  petter,  de 
tivel  vill  come  and  dakes  us  poth."  He  then  wept  bit- 
terly. At  this  the  divine  power  came  down  upon  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  and  many  were  awakened  and  con- 
verted to  God.  I  formed  a  class,  and  appointed  brother 
Corey  the  leader. 

At  another  time,  while  preaching  at  brother  Butt's,  a 
German  woman  became  awakened  to  a  sense  of  her  lost 
condition  as  a  sinner,  and  it  seemed,  so  great  was  her  dis- 
tress of  mind,  that  she  would  go  into  despair.  Her  hus- 
band said  I  had  bewitched  her,  and  he  was  determined  to 
shoot  me,  not  for  a  witch,  but  a  wizard.  For  this  pur- 
pose he  loaded  his  rifle  with  a  charmed  bullet,  and  went 
two  miles  for  the  purpose  of  waylaying  me.  Having 
reached  the  point  in  the  road  which  I  had  to  pass,  he 
secreted  himself  in  the  bushes,  and  awaited  my  arrival. 
He  was  not  long,  however,  in  this  position,  till  his  mind 
was  filled  with  dreadful  thoughts;  horrid  visions  floated 
before  his  excited  imagination;  demon  shapes  gathered 
around  him,  and  he  fled  precipitately  for  home,  in  as 
much  distress  as  his  poor  wife.  They  sent  for  brother 
Vulgamode  and  his  wife  to  come  and  pray  for  them, 
which  they  did,  and  soon  both  experienced  religion ;  and 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  them  into  the  Church. 

A  painful  incident  occurred  about  this  time.  A  brothei 
S.,  who  had  been  appointed  leader  of  the  class  at  White 
Eyes  Plains,  with  some  of  the  members  of  his  class,  was 
induced  to  go  to  a  horse-race,  where  they  became  intoxi- 
cated. Soon  after  this  he  was  taken  sick,  and,  while  suf- 
fering under  disease,  he  made  many  promises,  if  the  Lord 
would  spare  his  life,  to  do  better.     The  Lord  heard  hia 


198  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

vows ;  ihe  disease  was  rebuked,  and  his  health  began  to 
return.  Before,  however,  he  was  fully  restored,  he  wen* 
to  a  corn-husking,  and  was  again  overcome  by  strong 
drink.  He  was  carried,  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  into 
the  house,  and  laid  on  a  bed;  and  no  further  attention 
was  paid  to  him  till  after  supper,  when  the  party  began  to 
clear  the  room  for  a  dance.  The  room  being  small,  it 
was  necessary  to  remove  the  bed ;  but  when  they  came  to 
wake  S.  from  his  drunken  slumbers,  they  found  him  dead. 
His  soul  had  been  summoned  away.  What  an  awful 
warning  to  backsliders  and  drunkards!  Reader,  have 
you  departed  from  God  by  sin  and  transgression?  Re- 
turn, 0  return  speedify,  lest  you  be  filled  with  your  own 
ways.  Remember  God  will  not  always  be  mocked.  Have 
you  been  in  the  habit  of  drinking?  Quit  it  instantly;  go 
not  where  it  is;  "taste  not,  touch  not,  handle  not,"  or 
you  are  gone  forever.  0,  "look  not  upon  the  wine  when 
it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  its  color  in  the  cup,  when  it 
moveth  itself  aright;  for  at  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent, 
and  stingeth  like  an  adder."  Death  and  damnation  are 
in  the  maddening  draught;  therefore,  fly  from  the  insidi- 
ous destroyer. 

Another  alarming  judgment  occurred  in  the  case  of 
M.  P.  about  this  time.  He  had  embraced  infidelity,  and 
was  a  boasting  disciple  of  Tom  Paine.  On  a  public  occa- 
sion he  was  heard  to  say  that  he  was  a  deliberate  enemy 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  would  only  live  to  oppose  him  and 
his  religion ;  confirming  the  declaration  by  several  awful 
oaths  and  imprecations.  The  following  week  he  became 
suddenly  deranged,  and  became  such  a  furious  madman 
that  it  was  necessary  to  put  him  in  close  confinement. 
His  haggard  features  and  demon-like  scowl  were  truly 
terrific,  and  his  language  was  horrible  and  blasphemous 
beyond  expression.  He  raved  as  though  torn  by  a  thou- 
sand furies,  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  gnawed  his  blasphe- 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  19(J 

moas  tongu:,  till  exhausted  nature  yielded,  and  lie  gaffe 
up  the  ghost.  I  was  invited  to  preach  his  funeral ;  and, 
in  the  fear  of  God,  I  endeavored  to  make  what  improve- 
ment I  could  of  so  awful  a  scene.  It  is  not  strange  that 
those  who  abuse  their  reason  in  denying  the  existence  of 
a  God,  should  lose  its  proper  exercise,  any  more  than  that 
those  who  abuse  any  physical  organ  should  lose  its  use. 
Once  after  preaching  at  White  Eyes  Plains,  a  mes- 
senger came  to  me  and  said  there  was  a  poor  woman, 
who  lived  about  five  miles  distant,  who  was  anxious  to 
see  me.  Accordingly  I  went,  and,  on  arriving,  found  her 
in  an  open  cabin,  surrounded  by  four  helpless  children, 
all  in  the  deepest  poverty.  Her  husband  had  died,  and 
was  buried  in  the  woods,  a  short  distance  from  the  rude, 
unfinished  cabin  which  he  had  tried  to  rear  for  his  family. 
My  sympathies,  already  excited  by  the  appearance  of  the 
family,  were  hightened  in  their  intensity  by  the  widow's 
sad  tale  of  woe.  All  the  money  I  had  in  the  world  was 
thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents.  What  to  do  I  knew  not. 
It  occurred  to  me,  that  my  thick,  new,  cloth  leggins, 
which  I  wore  over  my  buckskin  pants,  would  make  the 
eldest  son  a  good,  warm  coat;  and  I  was  about  untying 
them,  when  it  was  suggested  that  I  could  not  possibly  do 
without  them ;  besides  it  was  raining  and  cold,  and  1 
would  be  much  exposed ;  I,  however,  overcame  the  tempt- 
ation, pulled  off  the  leggins,  and  gave  them  to  the  mother, 
telling  her  to  make  a  coat  out  of  them  for  her  son ;  and 
then,  giving  her  the  small  sum  of  money,  and  praying 
with  the  family,  I  departed.  I  had  not  gone  a  hundred 
yards  from  that  desolate  habitation  till  the  Lord  poured 
down  upon  me  a  blessing,  and  I  shouted  and  traveled  on 
in  the  rain.  As  night  approached  I  reached  the  mouth 
of  Whitewoman,  which  I  crossed,  and  stopped  at  a  tav- 
ern. I  told  the  tavern-keeper  I  would  like  to  stop  with 
him,  but  had  nothing  to  pay.     He  took  my  horse,  and, 


200  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

after  putting  him  in  the  stable,  he  came  in  and  asked  me 
who  I  was.  I  gave  him  my  name  and  vocation.  While 
I  was  drying  my  pants  by  the  fire,  supper  was  announced, 
which  I  ate  with  great  relish.  After  prayers,  and  conver- 
sation on  a  variety  of  topics,  I  went  to  bed.  While  sit- 
ting, in  the  morning,  by  the  fire,  trying  to  rub  soci*  plia- 
bility into  my  now  dry  and  hard  leather  breeches,  the 
landlord  came  in  and  presented  me  with  a  fine  pair  of 
new  leggins,  and  a  dollar  in  the  bargain.  This  kind  act 
so  filled  me  with  gratitude  to  God  that  I  made  the  bar- 
room ring  with  shouts  of  praise.  I  realized  the  truth  of 
that  proverb,  "He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor,  lendeth  to 
the  Lord;  and  he  shall  be  repaid  again." 

Some  time  in  June  the  Rev.  James  Quinn — the  presid- 
ing elder  of  the  district — sent  brother  John  Strange,  of 
blessed  memory,  to  travel  with  me.  He  was  then  quite 
a  youth,  and  had  just  entered  the  field  as  an  itinerant 
preacher.  His  person  was  tall  and  slender,  but  graceful, 
and  his  manners  prepossessing  and  engaging.  Although 
he  could  not  wear  the  armor  of  Saul,  he  soon  learned  to 
use  the  sling  of  David  with  admirable  dexterity.  He  wa* 
unassuming  and  modest  in  all  his  deportment  to  his  supe- 
riors ;  kind  and  conciliatory  in  all  his  bearing  to  his  equals, 
and  affectionate  and  amiable  to  all.  He  possessed  a  voice 
of  unusual  sweetness,  compass,  and  power.  His  singing 
would  entrance  the  hearts  of  listening  thousands ;  and  1 
have  witnessed  its  effect  as  the  silvery  tones  would  rise,  and 
swell,  and  fall  upon  the  ear,  like  strains  from  heaven.  He 
was  not  a  literary  man,  in  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  ;hat 
term;  but,  like  the  backwoods  preachers  of  those  days, 
was  self-taught;  and,  by  deep  communion  with  himself, 
and  nature,  and  God,  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  hu 
man  nature  and  the  springs  of  human  action,  that  ena 
bled  him  to  wield  a  vast  power  over  the  minds  of  the 
thousands  who  crowded  together  to  hang  upon  the  9iO- 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  201 

ruence  of  his  lips.  He  was  one  of  nature's  orators. 
When  inspired  with  hio  theme,  his  eye  kindled  with  un- 
earthly fire,  and  his  whole  face  gleamed  with  a  heavenly 
radiance.  When  he  described  heaven,  which  he  always 
did  in  the  beautiful  and  impressive  imagery  of  the  Bible, 
the  mind  seemed  transported  to  that  bright  world,  and  to 
wander,  with  rapture, 

"Among  the  bowers,  aud  by  the  streams 
Of  heaven's  delightful  shore." 

When  he  would  describe  the  dying  Christian,  so  vividly 
would  he  bring  before  the  mind  the  triumphs  of  the  part- 
ing scene,  that,  like  Bunyan  when  he  saw  Christian  and 
Faithful  enter  the  celestial  gate,  you  would  be  constrained 
to  wish  yourself  with  them  in  that  hour.  When,  by  him, 
the  violated  law  spoke  out  its  thunders,  he  would  rise  to 
an  awful  sublimity;  his  brow  would  gather  blackness; 
his  eye  dart  fire ;  and,  with  the  quick  and  significant  ges- 
ture of  his  hand,  he  would  indicate  the  doom  of  the 
finally  impenitent,  and  startle  the  most  hardened  from 
their  seats.  He  seemed  to  have  lost  all  love  of  the  world, 
and  literally  to  have  forsaken  all  for  Christ.  His  whole 
sov.i  was  in  his  work;  and  having  but  one  object,  he  was 
concentrating  all  his  powers  in  its  pursuit.  I  at  once  took 
him  to  my  heart,  and  found  him  a  faithful  and  affection- 
ate co-laborer  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  Our  hearts 
were  always  in  unison;  and  we  never  exchanged  an  un- 
pleasant word  or  look  for  upward  of  twenty  years'  labor 
and  acquaintance.  He  entered  the  ministry  and  pursued 
the  work  of  an  itinerant,  as  all  young  men  who  enter  the 
field  should  do.  Who  ever  heard  John  Strange  say,  "My 
work  is  too  hard,"  or,  "  My  circuit  is  too  poor?"  Although 
he  had  a  slender  frame  and  feeble  constitution,  subject  to 
many  afflictions,  he  seldom  ever  lost  an  appointment. 
Sick  or  well,  he  continued  in  the  work,  trusting  in  God, 
and  laboring  for  the  salvation  of  soiils.    He  haa  taken  hia 


2C2  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

charge,  and  had  resolved  only  to  lay  it  down  with  his 
body,  ceasing  to  work  only  when  he  ceased  to  live.  He 
was  my  first  colleague,  my  true  yoke- fellow,  my  bosom 
friend.  But  he  has  done  the  errand  of  his  Master,  and 
entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord.  He  fought  a  good  fight, 
finished  his  course,  kept  the  faith,  and  obtained  the  crown 
of  eternal  life.  After  traveling  thirteen  years  in  the  Ohio 
conference,  he  was  transferred  to  Indiana,  where  he 
labored  eight  or  nine  years,  and  died  in  Indianapolis  in 
1832.  Twenty-two  years  of  his  life  were  spent  in  the 
vineyard  of  the  Lord;  and  many  in  eternity's  morning 
will  hail  him  as  their  herald  to  the  land  of  bliss.  A  short 
time  before  his  death  he  sent  me  the  following  message : 
"Tell  my  old  friend,  brother  Finley,  that  all  is  well.  I 
shall  soon  be  at  home.  Glory  to  God  for  the  prospect  I 
have  of  meeting  him  there !"  Yes,  sainted  one,  I  shall 
soon  meet  you  in  that  upper,  better  sanctuary.  I  feel 
that  the  frosts  of  fifty  winters,  in  the  hard-fought  field  of 
itinerant  life,  will  soon  cause  me  to  fade  like  the  leaf  of 
an  Indian  summer ;  and  I  shall  sleep  with  my  fathers  and 
brotners  on  the  bosom  of  my  Savior  and  my  God. 

The  first  camp  meeting  ever  held  in  this  region  of  coun- 
try was  on  the  land  of  Mr.  James  Clark,  on  Tuscarawas 
river.  This  meeting  produced  a  great  excitement  among 
all  classes  of  people ;  and  they  came  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  to  attend  it.  The  Moravians,  who  resided  a  short 
distance  above,  were  prohibited,  by  their  good  old  priest, 
from  attf'n'iing ;  but,  notwithstanding  all  the  admonitions 
to  prevent  their  attendance,  when  the  time  arrived  for 
holding  the  meeting,  many  were  there.  Quite  a  numbei 
of  these  people  experienced  religion ;  and  so  powerful 
was  the  manifestation  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  that  multi 
tudes  were  converted,  and  hundreds  went  away  deeply 
and  powerfully  convicted  on  account  of  their  sins.  As 
usuai  on  all  such  occasions,  the  spirit  of  persecution  was 


ftEV.    JAMES    £.    FlNLEY.  203 

developed.  Inroads  made  on  the  territory  of  darkness 
will  always  excite  a  sturdy  conflict  with  the  powers 
thereof;  and  the  resistance  to  truth  and  righteousness 
more  visibly  manifests  itself  during  a  revival  than  at  any 
other  time.  The  power  and  genuineness  of  a  work  of 
God  may  be  usually  measured  by  the  opposition  it  meets 
with  from  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil.  The  work 
of  the  Lord,  however,  went  on,  and  the  cause  of  Christ 
triumphed  gloriously. 

An  incident  occurred  on  this  circuit  in  reference  to  our 
rules,  which  I  will  relate.  At  Lemuel  Joseph's  the  class- 
leader  had  permitted  a  Lutheran,  by  the  name  of  Mr.  John 
Bowers,  to  meet  in  class  from  time  to  time,  and  have  all 
the  privileges  of  the  Church,  though  he  was  not  a  mem- 
ber, and  refused  to  join,  assigning  as  a  reason,  that  if  he 
should  leave  the  Lutheran  Church  and  join  any  other,  he 
would  be  guilty  of  perjury.  His  wife,  also  a  Lutheran, 
was  in  the  habit  of  attending  and  enjoying  the  same  priv- 
ileges. When  I  came  to  lead  the  class,  I  told  them  they 
could  not  remain  unless  they  would  join  the  Church, 
and  they  must  leave.  They  went  away  much  afflicted, 
and  the  whole  class  felt  offended  at  me  for  the  procedure. 
I  told  them  they  must  not  blame  me.  If  they  had  any 
fault  to  find,  they  must  attack  the  rules  of  the  Church, 
which  forbade  their  remaining;  and  besides,  they  must 
think  me  faithless  to  my  trust,  as  the  administrator  of 
Discipline,  if  I  would  permit  the  rules  to  be  violated  un- 
der my  own  eye,  when  I  had  the  power  to  prevent  it. 
When  I  came  round  again  Mr.  Bowers  and  wife  and 
mother  were  there  again.  After  preaching  I  told  them, 
as  before,  that  unless  they  intended  to  join  the  Church, 
they  must  retire  while  we  held  class.  At  this  the  old 
lady  left,  but  the  old  gentleman  remained.  While  the 
meeting  progressed,  the  Lord  manifested  himself  to  the 
people  in  greit  power,  and  we  had  a  glorious  time,  so 


204:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

i hat  the  old  lady,  who  was  an  attentive  listener  on  the 
outside,  thrust  open  the  door,  exclaiming  with  a  loud 
voice,  "My  God,  I  can  stay  out  no  longer  1"  That  day 
they  all  joined  the  class,  and  we  had  a  season  of  greal 
rejoicing.  The  members  who  were  dissatisfied  at  the 
stand  I  had  previously  taken  in  carrying  out  the  rules, 
now  came  to  me  and  said,  "You  did  just  right." 

Some  years  after  I  stopped  to  see  the  old  people.  As  1 
approached  the  house,  old  brother  Bowers  was  standing 
inside  the  bars;  I  said  to  him,  "Brother  Bowers,  please  let 
down  the  bars,  that  I  may  ride  into  the  yard."  "No," 
said  he,  "brother,  you  must  let  down  the  bars  yourself. 
You  made  me  lay  down  the  bars  once  to  get  into  the 
Church,  now  you  must  take  down  the  bars  and  come  into 
my  house,  and  you  shall  be  welcome."  This  man  and  his 
family  were  very  consistent  members  of  the  Church  and 
ornaments  of  their  profession. 

At  the  mouth  of  One-leg,  in  the  bounds  of  my  circuit, 
there  lived  a  hunter  and  trapper.  He  spent  the  most  of 
his  time  in  the  woods  and  mingled  but  little  with  society. 
He  was  looked  upon  by  the  neighbors  as  rather  an  object 
of  dread  than  otherwise.  As  I  had  a  long  ride  between 
my  appointments,  I  concluded,  one  day,  to  take  his  cabin 
in  my  route  and  stop  with  him  and  his  family,  and  per- 
haps I  might  be  able  to  do  them  some  good.  Accord- 
ingly I  rode  up  to  his  rude  habitation  and  asked  him  if  1 
could  get  something  for  myself  and  horse  to  eat.  He 
cast  a  sour  look  at  me  and  crustily  replied,  "I  suppose 
you  can."  I  got  off  my  horse  and  walked  in,  and  while 
his  wife  was  making  preparations  for  a  meal,  I  looked  up 
and  saw  his  rifle  suspended  upon  hooks  over  the  door. 
Said  I  to  him,  "You  have  a  good-looking  gun  hanging 
there."     He  replied,  "Yes." 

"Are  you  a  good  shot,  Mr.  Reeves?" 

"I  count  myself  among  the  very  best." 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  205 

"Do  you  think  you  can  beat  me?" 

"Yes,  with  all  ease,  or  "any  other  man." 

"I  have  some  doubts  on  that  subject.'* 

"You  can  soon  settle  that  matter  after  you  get  your 
dinner." 

He  then  took  down  his  rifle,  put  it  in  order,  and  made 
his  target,  and  waited  till  I  had  partaken  of  my  dinner, 
6eemingly  impatient  to  test  my  skill  as  a  marksman.  We 
walked  out,  and  placing  the  target  he  stepped  off  the  dis- 
tance and  said,  "The  first  shot  is  yours."  I  took  the 
rifle,  and,  taking  deliberate  aim  at  the  center,  tired.  He 
reloaded  and  did  the  same,  but  I  had  beaten,  as  my  ball 
was  nearest  the  center.  We  fired  again,  and  this  time  he 
had  slightly  the  advantage,  which  seemed  to  cheer  him 
much.  We  took  another  round,  and  my 'ball  was  the 
nearest  the  center.  The  whole  six  balls,  so  close  were  the 
shots,  could  have  been  fully  covered  by  a  quarter  of  a 
dollar.  He  was  anxious  to  try  it  again,  but  I  declined, 
saying,  "  If  it  suits  your  pleasure,  wait  till  I  come  round  my 
circuit  again,  and  then,  if  you  wish,  we  will  try  it  over. 
I  will  then  stay  all  night,  and  we  will  have  more  time."  I 
said,  also,  "If  you  will  tell  your  neighbors  to  meet  here  at 
three  o'clock,  four  weeks  from  to-day,  I  will  preach  to 
them."  I  then  returned  to  the  house,  got  my  horse,  and 
proceeded  on  to  my  next  appointment. 

When  I  came  round  at  the  appointed  time,  I  found  ail 
the  men,  women,  and  children  of  the  settlements,  within 
four  miles,  collected  to  hear  me  preach.  I  had  great  free- 
dom, and  during  the  discourse  there  was  much  weeping. 
I  spoke  affectionately  to  all  about  their  salvation.  After 
the  congregation  had  dispersed,  the  trapper  came  to  me 
and  said, 

"Excuse  me,  sir,  I  wish  to  go  trapping;  you  can  stay 
at  my  house  till  I  return." 

"But,"  said  I,   "let  me  go  with  you."     Tc   this  he 


'206  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

assented,  and  getting  his  traps  we  started.  On  the  way  1 
proposed  to  take  half  the  traps  and  set  them,  that  we 
nii^ht  see  which  had  the  best  luck.  He  agreed  to  this, 
and  we  went  on  setting  trap  about.  When  a  favorable 
opportunity  presented  itself  I  commenced  conversing  with 
him  about  the  salvation  of  his  soul  and  the  souls  of  his 
family,  and  preached  to  him  Jesus  and  his  salvation.  At 
first  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  take  me;  but  seeing  my 
earnestness  and  sincerity,  at  length  he  yielded  to  the 
power  of  truth,  and  he  burst  out  into  passionate  expres- 
sions of  grief.  After  setting  the  traps  we  returned  to  the 
trapper's  home.  I  prayed  with  the  family  that  night  and 
also  in  the  morning,  and  started  on  my  way.  On  my 
next  visit  the  trapper  and  his  wife  obtained  the  pardon  and 
the  peace  of  God,  and  I  formed  a  class  at  his  house  and 
appointed  him  the  leader. 

One  of  the  most  tragical  events  ever  recorded,  occurred 
within  the  bounds  of  this  circuit  at  the  village  of  Gnaden- 
hutten,  March  8,  1782.  The  Moravian  missionaries,  whose 
zeal  is  unquenched  by  the  snows  of  Lapland,  and  whose 
energy  braves  the  burning  sands  of  Arabia  and  Africa, 
had  penetrated  these  western  wilds  before  the  white  man 
had  made  his  settlement,  and  had  succeeded  in  establishing 
missions  on  the  Tuscarawas,  among  the  Delaware  Indians. 
They  had  three  stations  on  the  river;  namely,  Gnaden- 
hutten,  Shoenbrun,  and  Salem.  These  villages  were  oc- 
cupied by  the  Indians,  all  of  whom  had  become  Christian 
ized,  and  were  peacefully  engaged  in  the  various  pursuit' 
of  civilization. 

Several  depredations  having  been  committed  by  hostile 
Indians,  about  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  on  the 
frontier  inhabitants  of  Western  Pennsylvania  and  Vir- 
ginia, they  determined  to  retaliate,  and  a  company  of  one 
hundred  men  was  raised  and  placed  under  the  command 
of  Colonel  Williamson,  as  a  corps  of  volunteer  militia. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  207 

fhey  set  out  for  the  Moravian  towns  on  the  Tuscarawas 
river,  and  arrived  within  a  mile  of  Gnadenhutten  on  the 
night  of  the  5th  of  March. 

On  the  morning  of  the  sixth,  finding  the  Indians  at 
work  in  their  cornfield  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river, 
sixteen  of  Williamson's  men  crossed  over,  two  at  a  time, 
in  a  large  sugar  trough,  taking  their  rifles  with  them. 
The  remainder  went  into  the  village,  where  the}'  found  an 
Indian  and- squaw,  both  of  whom  they  killed.  The  six- 
teen on  the  west  side,  on  approaching  the  Indians,  found 
them  more  numerous  than  they  had  anticipated.  The 
Indians  had  their  arms  with  them,  which  they  carried 
not  only  for  purposes  of  protection,  but  for  killing  game. 
The  whites  accosted  them  kindly,  telling  them  that  they 
had  come  for  the  purpose  of  taking  them  to  a  place  where 
in  future  they  would  be  protected  in  safety,  no  longer  to 
be  startled  by  the  rude  alarm  of  angry  foes.  They  ad- 
vised them  to  quit  work,  and  go  with  them  to  Fort  Pitt. 
Some  of  the  tribe  had  been  taken  to  that  place  in  the  pre- 
ceding year,  and  were  treated  with  great  kindness  by 
their  white  neighbors,  and  especially  the  governor  of  the 
fort,  and  returned  to  their  homes  with  tokens  of  friend- 
ship and  kindness.  Under  such  circumstances  it  was  not 
surprising  that  the  innocent  and  unsuspecting  Moravian 
Indians  surrendered  their  arms,  and  at  once  consented  to 
place  themselves  under  the  protection  and  control  of  Wil- 
liamson and  his  men.  An  Indian  messenger  was  dis- 
patched to  Salem,  for  the  purpose  of  apprising  their  breth- 
ren of  the  arrangement,  and  then  both  companies  returned 
to  Gnadenhutten.  On  reaching  the  village,  a  number  of 
mounted  militia  started  for  the  Salem  settlement,  but  ere 
they  reached  it,  so  great  was  the  dispatch  of  the  messen- 
ger, that  they  found  the  Moravian  Indians  at  that  place 
had  already  left  their  cornfields,  and  were  on  the  road  to 
join  their  brethren  at  Gnadenhutten.     Measures  had  been 


208  AUTOBIOGEAPHY     OF 

previously  adopted  to  secure  the  Indians  whom  they  had 
at  first  decoyed  into  their  power,  and  accordingly  they 
were  bound,  and  confined  in  two  houses,  securely  guarded. 
On  the  arrival  of  the  Indians  from  Salem — their  arms 
having  been  secured  without  any  suspicion  of  their  hostile 
intentions — they  were  at  once  seized,  fettered,  and  divided 
between  the  two  prison-houses,  the  males  in  one,  and  the 
females  in  the  other.  The  number  thus  confined  in  both 
houses,  including  men,  women,  and  children,  amounted 
to  from  ninety  to  one  hundred. 

A  council  was  then  held  to  determine  how  the  Mora- 
vian Indians  should  be  disposed  of.  This  self-constituted 
military  court  consisted  of  both  officers  and  privates. 
Williamson  put  the  question  whether  the  Indians  should 
}>e  taken,  prisoners,  to  Fort  Pitt,  or  put  to  death,  request- 
i  ig  those  who  were  in  favor  of  saving  their  lives  to  march 
-  ut  of  rank,  and  form  a  second  rank  in  advance.  Only 
ighteen,  out  of  the  whole  number,  stepped  out  as  the  ad- 
vocates of  mercy.  In  these  the  feelings  of  humanity  pre- 
/ailed;  but  in  the  others,  constituting  the  large  majority, 
humanity  and  justice  were  utterly  extinct.  They  had  de- 
liberately come  to  the  conclusion  to  murder  the  whole  of 
the  Christian  Indians  in  their  power.  Among  the  doomed 
were  several  who  had  contributed  to  aid  the  missionaries 
in  the  work  of  conversion  and  civilization ;  two  of  whom 
emigrated  from  New  Jersey  after  the  death  of  their  pas- 
tor, Rev.  David  Brainard.  One  Indian  female,  who  could 
speak  good  English,  fell  upon  her  knees  before  William- 
son, the  commander,  and  begged  most  eloquently  and  pit- 
eously  for  his  protection;  but  all  her  supplications  and 
pleadings  were  unheeded  by  the  heartless  and  dastardly 
wretch,  who  ordered  her  to  prepare  for  death. 

They  had  anticipated  the  cruel  fate  that  awaited  them , 
and  their  hymns  of  praise  and  fervent  prayers  ascended 
from  their  prison,  during  the  whole  of  that  eventful  night. 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FliLET.  200 

to  their  great  Father  in  heaven.  Their  prayers  and  tears, 
and  their  pleadings  for  mercy  and  protection  were  lost 
upon  their  white  murderers,  but  they  entered  the  ears  of 
an  avenoinor  God.  When  the  morning  sun"  arose,  the 
work  of  death  commenced,  and  a  scene  of  human  butch- 
ery occurred,  of  sufficient  enormity  to  move  the  heart 
most  used  to  blood  and  carnage,  and  gather  paleness  on 
the  cheek  of  darkness  itself.  One  after  another,  men, 
women,  and  children  were  led  out  to  a  block  prepared  foi 
the  dreadful  purpose,  and,  being  commanded  to  sit  down, 
the  ax  of  the  butcher,  in  the  hands  of  infuriate  demons, 
clave  their  skulls.  Two  persons,  who  were  present  at 
that  time,  and  who  related  to  me  the  fearful  story,  assured 
me  that  they  were  unable  to  witness,  but  for  a  short  time, 
the  horrid  scene.  One  of  these  men  stated  that  when  he 
,aw  the  incarnate  fiends  lead  a  pretty  little  girl,  about 
twelve  years  of  age,  to  the  fatal  block,  and  heard  her 
plead  for  her  life,  in  the  most  piteous  accents,  till  her  inno- 
cent voice  was  hushed  in  death,  he  felt  a  faintness  come 
over  him,  and  could  no  lonq-er  stand  the  heart-sickenino 
Gcene.  The  dreadful  work  of  human  slaughter  continued 
till  every  prayer,  and  moan,  and  sigh  was  hushed  in  the 
stillness  of  death.  No  sex,  age,  or  condition  was  spared, 
from  the  gray-haired  sire  to  the  infant  at  its  mother's 
breast.  All  fell  victims  to  the  most  cold-blooded  murder 
ever  perpetrated  by  man. 

There  lay,  in  undistinguished  confusion,  gashed  and 
gcry,  in  that  cellar,  where  they  were  thrown  by  their 
butchers,  nearly  one  hundred  murdered  Christian  Indians, 
hurried  to  an  untimely  grave  by  those  who  had  but  two 
days  before  sworn  to  protect  them.  God  of  humanity, 
what  an  act!  But  this  was  not  enough.  If  possible,  to 
highten  its  atrocity,  the  buildings  were  fired,  and  the  tim- 
bers of  their  peaceful  homes  were  made  the  fuel  that  con- 
sumed their  lifeless  bodies.    When  I  stood  beside  this  cel- 

14 


210  ACTOBIOGEaPII t    of 

lar,  and  witnessed  its  blackened  and  dilapidated  walls, 
and  learned  with  what  fortitude  those  poor  Moravian  In- 
dian brethren  met  their  martyr  fate,  some  of  them  prais- 
ing God  to  the  last,  others,  like  their  divine  Master,  pray- 
ing for  their  murderers,  none  can  tell  the  deep  and 
overwhelming  feelings  of  my  soul.  But,  blessed  be  God! 
Satan  can  only  go  the  length  of  his  chain !  The  ax  of 
persecution  can  only  cut  down  the  separating  wall  that 
'ets  the  saint  into  heaven.  The  fires  can  only  consume 
the  mortality,  from  which  the  deathless  spirit  is  evolved, 
and  from  whence  it  shall  go,  as  in  chariots  of  fire,  to 
heaven. 

At  this  settlement  I  found  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mortimer,  who 
had  charge  of  the  Indians,  and  the  Rev.  George  Godfrey 
Miller,  who  had  charge  of  the  whites  in  the  Moravian 
reservation.  Here  I  ventured  to  go  and  preach,  and  the 
Lord  owned  and  blessed  his  word ;  many  were  awakened 
and  converted.  I  formed  a  class,  and  appointed  a  leader. 
This  rather  displeased  old  father  Miller,  and  he  wrote  me 
a  letter,  requesting  me  to  leave  the  reservation,  and  not 
preach  there  any  more.  I  sent  him  word  that  I  could  not 
do  that;  as  my  commission  was  to  go  into  all  the  world, 
and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature;  and  that,  as 
soon  as  I  was  able,  I  intended  to  obey  the  Divine  com- 
mand; and  if  he  had  any  thing  to  say,  he  must  say  it  to 
my  Master.  I  furthermore  said,  if  he  could  ascertain 
from  the  Lord  that  my  field  of  labor  did  not  include  the 
reservation,  then  1  would  comply  with  his  request,  and 
retire.  The  next  week  the  old  gentleman  walked  four 
miles,  to  brother  Karr's,  to  meeting.  I  asked  him  to 
preach  for  us,  which  he  did;  and  after  meeting,  at  my 
icquest,  he  remained  with  us  in  class,  where  he  received, 
with  all  of  us,  a  powerful  blessing.  The  whole  class  was 
in  a  flame  of  love  and  joy ;  and  the  old  Moravian  saint 
caught  the  fire,  and  shouted,  as  loud  as  any  of  us,  the 


REV      JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  211 

praises  of  God.  After  this,  whenever  he  could,  he  wor- 
shiped with  us,  and  never  alluded  to  my  leaving  the 
reservation. 

On  this  circuit  there  were  four  local  preachers;  namely, 
J.  M.  Round,  John  Willey,  J.  Myers,  and  James  Sharrock; 
all  efficient  and  useful  ministers  of  the  New  Testament. 

My  first  was  perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  all  the 
years  of  my  itinerant  life.  I  kept  a  memorandum  of  the 
names,  places,  and  date  of  all  that  joined ;  amounting  to 
one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  in  number,  some  of  v^hom 
became  preachers,  and  are  now  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  pro- 
claiming salvation  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 


212  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHATTER  XI. 

LOST    IN    THE    MOUNTAINS. 

In  ihc  bounds  of  my  first  circuit  lived  sister  Boarer,  a 
history  of  whose  wonderful  deliverance,  by  Providence, 
was  related  to  me  with  her  own  lips,  and  I  will  narrate  it 
for  the  benefit  of  my  readers. 

Mrs.  Boarer,  the  heroine  and  narrator  of  the  story,  was 
the  wife  of  Mr.  George  Boarer,  and  was,  by  education  and 
parentage,  a  Roman  Catholic.  Her  parents  were  natives 
of  Berkley  county,  Va.,  and,  at  the  time,  were  residents 
of  the  country  in  the  vicinity  of  Sleepy  creek.  Early  on 
the  morning  of  the  7th  of  January,  1800,  she  left  home 
on  a  borrowed  horse,  to  cross  the  Capon  Mountains,  to 
visit  her  aged  parents.  .She  took  with  her  an  infant  child, 
a  daughter,  seven  months  old.  The  snow  upon  th« 
mountains  was  three  feet  deep,  and  the  weather  was  ex- 
ceedingly cold.  For  defense,  and  company's  sake,  sh* 
took  with  her  the  house-dog,  a  very  large  spaniel.  Hav- 
ing  gained  the  top  of  the  mountain  range,  she  concluded 
to  leave  the  great  road,  and,  by  a  short  cut,  arrive  the 
same  night  at  her  father's  house. 

She  had,  however,  not  proceeded  far  before  she  found 
herself  bewildered,  and,  in  consequence,  becoming  fright 
ened.  She  dared  not  turn  back,  but  wandered  about 
through  the  mountain  till  night  had  settled  its  gloom  over 
the  world.  She  then  dismounted;  and  having  fastened 
her  horse  to  a  sapling,  she  prepared  a  place,  as  well  as 
circumstances  would  admit,  where  to  pass  the  night.  The 
snow,  as  before  remarked,  was  three  feet  deep ;  the  dark- 


RET.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  213 

aess  was  profound,  and  the  wind  from  the  nor  Ji- west 
oroke  in  a  hurricane  above  her.  With  no  company  but 
her  child,  and  no  protector  but  her  dog-,  her  condition  was 
lonely  beyond  the  imagination  to  conceive. 

Fortunately,  she  had  with  her  some  extra  clothing,  in 
the  shape  of  a  cloak  and  a  shawl.  Removing,  as  well  as 
she  sould,  the  snow  from  beneath  a  large  tree,  she  took 
her  apparel  and  made  the  best  disposition  possible  with  it; 
and,  with  her  child  and  her  dog,  she  composed  herself  for 
the  night. 

Sister  Boarer  stated  to  me,  that  for  a  week  previous  to 
undertaking  this  journey  she  was  unusually  exercised 
about  her  spiritual,  welfare,  and  very  frequently  took  an 
old  prayer-book  and  read  it. 

Now,  far  from  her  home,  desolate  and  distressed,  she 
felt  the  need  of  close  communion  with  God.  The  prayers 
which  she  had  read  the  week  before  came  fresh  to  her 
mind,  which  she  offered  fervently  to  her  Maker.  The 
night  was  long  and  dreary,  and  she  spent  it  without  sleep. 
Very  shortly  after  fastening  her  horse,  the  animal  became 
uneasy,  and  breaking  his  bridle,  started  off  at  full  speed. 
This  greatly  added  to  her  misfortunes,  for  she  had  hoped 
by  him  to  have  reached  some  settlement  the  next  day. 

At  length  day  dawned ;  and  though,  by  the  help  of  her 
clothing  and  her  dog,  she  had  kept  herself  and  child  from 
freezing,  yet  she  was  so  benumbed  by  the  cold  as  almost 
to  be  unable  to  walk  and  carry  her  infant  daughter  with- 
her.  This  was  Saturday  morning.  She  now  left  part  of 
her  clothing,  and  made  an  effort  to  return  to  the  point 
where  she  left  the  great  road.  After  traveling  till  she  was 
nearly  exhausted,  she  concluded  that,  unless  she  reached 
the  settlement,  she  must  perish  with  the  cold.  Indulging 
the  hope,  however,  thai  she  might  keep  herself  from  freez- 
ing, or  be  found  by  some  one,  she  thought  it  best  to 
return  to  the  spot  where  she  passed  the  previous  night 


214  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Accordingly,  she  started  back,  and,  on  her  way,  hung  up 
her  apron  on  a  bush,  and  afterward  a  handkerchief,  as 
signs  of  distress,  in  hope,  though  indeed  but  faint  hope, 
*hat  some  passing  hunter  might  see  one  or  the  other,  and 
come  to  her  relief.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  Saturday, 
and  with  great  difficulty,  she  regained  her  lodging-place. 

But  feeling  now  the  dread  of  passing  another  night  in 
so  desolate  a  place,  and  summoning  that  indomitable  spirit 
of  courage,  peculiar  to  her  sex  when  in  difficulty  and 
danger,  and  seeing  the  sun  fast  declining,  she  determined 
to  change  her  course,  and  make  one  more  desperate  eflbrt 
to  gain  some  settlement.  Throwing  off  part  of  her  ap- 
parel, in  order  to  be  less  incumbered,  she  began  again  to 
contend  with  the  snow,  rocks,  and  caverns  of  the  mount- 
ains, and  at  length  came  to  a  deep,  narrow  gorge,  down 
the  sides  of  which  she  could  not  descend  with  her  child. 

She  looked  up  and  down,  but  could  see  no  place  that 
offered  an  easier  passage  than  the  one  before  her.  She 
hesitated  a  moment,  but  having  no  other  alternative,  she 
threw  her  child  over,  and  then  followed  herself.  By  tak- 
ing hold  of  the  laurel  bushes  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
ravine,  she  managed  to  crawl  up  to  the  place  where  her 
child  lighted,  which,  to  her  great  joy,  she  found  uninjured, 
save  by  a  slight  scratch  on  its  face,  caused  by  its  falling 
on  the  crust  of  the  snow.  Resuming  her  journey,  she 
came  upon  a  hog-path,  which  led  to  a  cleft  of  shelving 
rocks  where  these  animals  were  accustomed  to  sleep. 

She  had  now  traveled — as  was  afterward  ascertained — 
one  mile  and  a  half.  Here  she  might  have  remained  shel- 
tered for  the  night,  but  fearing  the  return'  of  the  half 
starved  hogs,  and  that  herself,  her  child,  and  her  dog, 
might  all  become  a  sudden  prey  to  their  voraciousness, 
and  her  family  never  learn  their  fate,  she  immediately 
resumed  her  march,  and,  weary  and  faint,  made  her  way 
about  three  hundred  yards  off,  to  the  fide  of  the  mounl 


RET.    JAMES    B.    FIX  LEY.  215 

am  Finding  her  stockings  entirely  cut  up  by  the  crust 
of  the  snow,  and  her  limbs,  and  ankles,  and  feet  all  bleed- 
ing, shi  yielded  the  stiuggle,  and  under  some  pine  bushes 
hard  by,  she  obtained  a  place  to  sit  down  ;  but  the  snow 
sinking  beneath  her,  rendered  her  situation  most  critical 
and  desperate. 

She  took  care  to  wrap  her  Clothes  around  her  feet  and 
body  as  well  as  she  could ;  then  clasping  her  babe  warm 
to  her  bosom,  she  committed  herself  to  God. 

Her  faithful  doo-  had  not  left  her,  and  this  niffht  would 
he  down  just  where  she  bade  him ;  sometimes  on  her  feet 
and  limbs,  and  sometimes  at  her  back,  changing  alter- 
nately, as  if  to  keep  her  from  freezing.  During  the  night 
she  fell  asleep,  being  exhausted  with  the  labor  and  with 
want  of  food.  This  night  it  snowed  and  blew,  till  the 
new  fall  of  snow  was  ten  inches  deep  on  the  top  of  the 
former.  When  she  awoke  she  heard  the  chickens  crowing 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  the  do^'s  barkino*,  so  near 
was  she  to  a  house ;  but  the  wind  was  blowing  directly 
from  them  to  her,  which  proved  extremely  unfavorable  to 
her.  About  the  same  time  she  thought  she  heard  the 
people  feeding  their  cattle.  She  called  as  loud  and  as  long 
as  she  could,  but  no  one  came  to  her  relief.  This  morn- 
ing she  found  that  her  feet  and  limbs  were  badly  swelled, 
and  the  skin,  in  many  places,  broken. 

This  discovery  went  home  to  her  heart,  and  she  com- 
menced to  make  her  peace  with  God,  and  gave  herself  up 
to  die.  She  thought  if  her  infant  child  were  dead,  she, 
too,  could  die  in  peace ;  but  to  leave  it  to  perish  with  cold 
and  hunger,  was  a  thought  more  than  a  mother's  heart 
could  bear  She  laid  the  little  thing  down  to  freeze  to 
death  before  she  should  die  herself,  but  when  it  wept 
she  would  take  it  up  and  clasp  it  to  her  bosom.  De- 
spairing at  last  to  make  herself  heard,  as  the  wind  con- 
tinued   to    blow    violently    in    a    contrary    direction,   she 


21(5  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

resorted  to  another  expedient.  It  was  this :  She  pinned 
her  child's  bonnet  around  the  dog's  neck  and  sent  him  to 
solicit  help.  The  poor  animal,  as  if  perfectly  understand- 
ing hei  meaning,  started  off  immediate!}',  and  was  after- 
ward tracked  to  the  house  nearest  to  his  distressed  mis- 
tress, and  then  to  a  mill ;  but,  it  being  Sabbath  day  and 
extremely  cold,  the  dwellings  were  all  shut  up  and  no  one 
saw  him,  and  in  an  hour  or  two  he  returned  and  took  up 
his  station.  When  it  was  becoming  about  feeding  time 
she  commenced  calling  again,  and  a  man  on  the  top  of  a 
stack  of  bay  heard  her,  and  told  his  wife  that  he  heard 
something  on  the  mountain  making  a  noise  like  a  person 
in  distress ;  and  he  went  to  a  neighbor  and  told  him  the 
same  thing;  to  which  the  latter,  however,  only  replied,  "I 
suppose  it  must  be  a  panther."  This  night  was  likewise 
spent  in  making  her  peace  with  God,  and  she  stated  to  me 
that  if  she  had  perished  that  night  she  had  no  doubt  but 
that  she  would  have  gone  to  heaven.  Part  of  the  night 
was  spent  in  great  anxiety  about  her  child.  Her  faithful 
dog,  as  he  had  done'  before,  kept  close  to  her,  and  would 
iay  down  precisely  where  told  to.  This  circumstance,  in 
connection  with  that  of  being  covered  with  snow,  kept  her 
from  freezing  to  death. 

In  the  morning,  which  was  Monday,  she  commenced 
calling,  the  (bird  time,  for  help.  Her  clothes  were  frozen 
to  the  ground,  and  kept  her  from  rising,  and  her  exhaus- 
tion was  complete.  She  called  like  one  yielding  to  de- 
spair; but  the  wind  being  now  favorable,  a  man  who  was 
feeding  his  stock  heard  her  voice,  as  also  did  his  wife  in 
the  house,  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the  dis- 
tressed heroine  of  our  narrative,  and  who  said  to  her 
husband,  "If  Polly  Boarer  was  near,  I  should  say  it  was 
her  voice."  James  Smith  and  John  M'Intyre  took  their 
guns,  and  mounted  their  horses  and  started,  but  were 
deceived  in  their  course  by  the  echoes  of  Mrs.  Boarer'* 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIXLE1*.  217 

roice.  They  hunted  nearly  all  day,  and  returned  home, 
and  were  about  putting  up  their  horses,  when  Mr.  Smith 
heard  the  same  plaint  of  distress.  The  sun  was.  about  an 
houi  high,  and  the  long,  lingering  beams,  striking  from 
the  far  horizon  upon  the  snow-clad  wilds,  inspired  feelings 
of  the  deepest  gloom  and  solitude. 

They  started  again,  but  the  feeble  cry  of  the  perishing 
woman  had  ceased,  and,  just  as  the  men  were  taking  a 
wrong  direction,  she  said  that  she  felt  an  indefinable,  mys- 
terious feeling  come  over  her,  which  seemed  to  say  that  if 
she  only  would  call  again,  help  would  come  to  her.  She, 
therefore,  called  once  more,  and  was  heard,  and  found. 

But  a  new  difficulty  now  arose.  She  was  frozen  to  the 
ground,  and  was  almost  lifeless,  and  her  faithful  dog 
refused  to  let  the  strangers  approach.  At  length,  how- 
ever, he  was  pacified.  She  had  not  shed  a  tear  till  this 
moment  of  her  rescue.  But  now  the  tears  fell,  like  rain- 
drops, from  her  eyes.  She  was  speedily  conveyed  to  the 
nearest  house,  where  she  became  insensible,  and  remained 
so  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  flesh  fell  or  rather  peeled 
off  her  limbs,  and  many  of  her  toes  came  off;  so  that  she 
was  unable  to  walk  till  the  following  August — a  period  of 
over  six  months.  Her  husband  supposed  that  his  wife 
was  safe  at  her  father's,  and  her  father  never  thought  that 
she  had  started  to  visit  his  family.  The  horse,  after  be- 
coming free,  did  not  return  home ;  so  that  there  was  no 
suspicion  felt  in  regard  to  her  safety. 

I  leave  the  reader  to  his  and  to  her  own  reflections  on 
this  incident.  I  have  heard  the  mother  and  the  daughter 
tell,  in  love-feast,  what  I  have  here  imperfectly  told  you. 
How  true,  and  how  applicable  in  every  condition  of  life — 
in  poverty  or  in  health,  in  prosperity  or  adversity,  m  sun- 
shine or  in  storm,  in  plenty  or  in  distress — that  declara- 
tion of  the  merciful  Keeper  of  our  race,  "My  grace  ii 
sutneient  for  thee I" 


218  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE     DOOMED     CHIEFTAIN. 

During  this  summer  an  event  occurred,  on  the  circuit 
adjoining  the  one  which  I  traveled,  of  a  tragical  and  mel- 
ancholy character;  and,  as  I  propose,  in  connection  with 
my  own  biography,  to  furnish  the  reader  with  a  cotempo- 
rarieous  history  of  the  times  in  which  I  lived,  I  will  relate 
the  circumstances  connected  with  that  event. 

On  the  evening  of  the  first  day  of  June  six  Wyandott 
warriors  went  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Sells,  on  the 
Scioto  river,  about  twelve  miles  above  the  spot  where  now 
stands  the  city  of  Columbus.  They  were  equipped  in  the 
most  warlike  manner,  and  exhibited,  during  their  stay,  an 
unusual  degree  of  agitation.  Having  ascertained  that  an 
old  Wyandott  chief,  for  whom  they  had  boen  making  dili- 
gent inquiry,  was  then  encamped,  at  a  distance  of  about 
two  miles  further  up,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river,  the) 
expressed  a  determination  to  put  him  to  death,  aad  imme 
diately  went  off  in  the  direction  of  his  lodge. 

These  facts  were  communicated,  early  on  the  ensuing 
morning,  to  Mr.  John  Sells,  who  now  resides  in  the  village 
of  Dublin,  on  the  Scioto,  about  two  miles  from  the  place 
where  the  doomed  Wyandott  met  his  fate.  Mr.  Sells  im- 
mediately proceeded  up  the  river,  on  horseback,  in  quest 
of  the  Indians.  He  soon  arrived  at  the  lodge,  which  he 
found  situated  in  a  grove  of  .sugar-trees,  close  to  the  bank 
of  the  river.  The  six  warriors  were  seated,  in  consul  ta 
tioc,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  rods  from  the  lodge.  The 
old  chief  was  with   them,  evidently  in  the  character  of  a 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  210 

prisoner.  His  arms  were  confined  by  a  small  cord,  but 
lie  eat  with  them  without  any  manifestation  of  uneasiness. 
A  few  of  the  neighboring  white  men  were  likewise  there, 
and  a  gloomy -looking  Indian,  who  had  been  the  compan- 
ion of  the  chief,  but  now  kept  entirely  aloof — sitting  sul- 
lenly in  the  camp.  Mr.  Sells  approached  the  Indians,  and 
found  them  earnestly  engaged  in  debate.  A  charge  of 
"witchcraft"  had  been  made,  at  a  former  time,  against 
the  chief,  by  some  of  his  captors,  whose  friends  had  been 
destroyed,  as  they  believed,  by  means  of  his  evil  powers. 
This  crime,  according  to  the  immemorial  usage  of  the 
tribe,  involved  a  forfeiture  of  life.  The  chances  of  a 
hunter's  life  had  brought  the  old  man  to  his  Dresent  loca- 
tion, and  his  pursuers  had  sought  him  out,  in  order  that 
they  might  execute  upon  him  the  sentence  of  their  law. 

The  council  was  of  two  or  three  hours'  duration.  The 
accusing  party  spoke  alternately,  with  much  ceremony, 
but  with  evident  bitterness  of  feeling.  The  prisoner,  in 
his  replies,  was  eloquent,  though  dispassionate.  Occa- 
sionally a  smile  of  scorn  would  appear,  for  an  instant,  on 
his  countenance.  At  the  close  of  the  consultation  it  was 
ascertained  that  they  had  reaffirmed  the  sentence  of 
death  which  had  before  been  passed  upon  the  chief.  In- 
quiry having  been  made,  by  some  of  the  white  men,  with 
reference  to  their  arrangements,  the  captain  of  the  sii 
warriors  pointed  to  the  sun,  and  signified  to  them  that 
the  execution  would  take  place  at  one  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. Mr.  Sells  went  to  the  captain,  and  asked  him  what 
the  chief  had  done.  "Very  bad  Indian,"  ha  replied, 
"make  good  Indian  sick — make  horse  sick — make  die — 
rery  bad  chief."  Mr.  Sells  then  made  an  effort  to  per- 
suade his  white  friends  to  rescue  the  victim  of  supeisti 
tion  from  his  impending  fate,  but  to  no  purpose.  They 
were  then  in  a  frontier  situation,  entirely  open  to  the 
incursions  of  the  northern  tribes,  and  were,  consequently, 


220  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

unwilling  to  subject  themselves  to  the  displeasure  of  theii 
savage  visitors  by  any  interference  with  their  operations 
He  then  proposed  to  release  the  chief  by  purchase — offer- 
ing to  the  captain,  for  that  purpose,  a  fine  horse,  of  the 
value  of  three  hundred  dollars.  "Let  me  him  see,"  said 
the  Indian.  The  horse  was  accordingly  brought  forward, 
and  closely  examined;  and  so  much  were  they  staggered 
by  this  proposition,  that  they  again  repaired  to  their  place 
of  consultation,  and  remained  in  council  a  considerable 
length  of  time  before  it  was  finally  rejected. 

The  conference  was  again  terminated,  and  five  of  thf 
Indians  began  to  amuse  themselves  with  running,  jump 
ing,  and  other  athletic  exercises.  The  captain  took  n< 
part  with  them.  When  again  inquired  of  as  to  the  tim< 
of  execution,  he  pointed  to  the  sun,  as  before,  and  indi 
cated  the  hour  of  four.  The  prisoner  then  walked  slowlj 
to  his  camp,  partook  of  a  dinner  of  jerked  venison, 
washed,  and  arrayed  himself  in  his  best  apparel,  and 
afterward  painted  his  face.  His  dress  was  very  rich-- 
his  hair  gray,  and  his  whole  appearance  graceful  and 
commanding.  At  his  request  the  whole  company  drew 
around  him  at  the  lodge.  He  had  observed  the  exertions 
made  by  Mr.  Sells  in  his  behalf,  and  now  presented  to 
him  a  written  paper,  with  a  request  that  it  might  be  read 
to  the  company.  It  was  a  recommendation,  signed  by 
Governor  Hull,  and,  in  compliance  with  the  request  of 
the  prisoner,  it  was  fixed  and  left  upon  the  side  of  a  large 
tree,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  wigwam. 

The  hour  of  execution  being  close  at  hand,  the  chief 
shook  hands  in  silence  with  the  surrounding  spectators. 
On  coming  to  Mr.  Sells  he  appeared  much  moved,  grasped 
his  hand  warmly,  spoke  fur  a  few  minutes  in  the  Wyan- 
dott  language,  and  pointed  to  the  heavens.  He  then 
Uirned  from  the  wigwam,  and,  with  a  voice  of  surpassing 
strong  t  1  ana  melody,  commenced  the  chant  of  the  death- 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  221 

song.  He  was  followed  closely  by  the  Wyandott  war- 
riors, all  timing,  with  their  slow  and  measured  march,  the 
music  of  his  wild  and  melancholy  dirge.  The  white  men 
were  all  likewise  silent  followers  in  that  strange  procession. 
A  t  the  distance  of  seventy  or  eighty  yards  from  the  camp 
they  came  to  a  shallow  grave,  which,  unknown  to  the 
white  men,  had  been  previously  prepared  by  the  Indians. 
Here  the  old  man  kneeled  down,  and,  in  an  elevated  but 
solemn  tone  of  voice,  addressed  his  prayer  to  the  Great 
Spirit.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  the  captain  of  the  In- 
dians kneeled  beside  him,  and  prayed  in  a  similar  manner. 
Their  prayers,  of  course,  were  spoken  in  the  Wyandott 
tongue.  When  they  arose,  the  captain  was  again  accosted 
by  Mr.  Sells,  who  insisted  that,  if  they  were  inflexible  in 
the  determination  to  shed  blood,  they  should  at  least  re- 
move their  victim  beyond  the  limits  of  the  white  settle- 
ments. "No!"  said  he,  very  sternly,  and  with  evident 
displeasure,  "no — good  Indian  fraid — he  no  go  with  this 
bad  man — mouth  give  fire  in  the  dark  night — good  In- 
dian fraid — he  no  go!  My  friend,"  he  continued,  "me 
tell  you — white  man  bad  man,  white  man  kill  him — In- 
dian say  nothing." 

Finding  all  interference  futile,  Mr.  Sells  was  at  length 
compelled,  reluctantly,  to  abandon  the  old  man  to  his  fate. 
After  a  few  moments'  delay,  he  again  sank  down  upon  his 
knees,  and  prayed,  as  he  had  done  before.  When  he  had 
ceased  praying  he  still  continued  in  a  kneeling  position. 
All  the  rifles  belonging  to  the  party  had  been  left  at  the 
wigwam.  There  was  not  a  weapon  of  any  kind  to  be  seen 
at  the  place  of  execution,  and  the  spectators  were,  conse- 
quently, unable  to  form  any  conjecture  as  to  the  mode  of 
procedure  which  the  executioners  had  determined  on  for 
the  fulfillment  of  their  purpose.  Suddenly  one  of  the  war- 
riors drew,  from  beneath  the  skirts  of  his  capote,  a  keen, 
bright  tomahawk,  walked  rapidly  up  behind  the  chieftain. 


2'J2  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

orandished  the  weapon  on  high  for  a  single  moment,  and 
then  struck  with  his  whole  strength.  The  blow  descended 
directly  upon  the  crown  of  the  head,  and  the  victim  im- 
mediately fell  prostrate.  After  he  had  lain  awhile  in  the 
agonies  of  death,  the  Indian  captain  directed  the  attention 
of  the  white  men  to  the  drops  of  sweat  which  were  gath- 
ering upon  h\s  neck  and  face,  remarking,  with  much  ap- 
parent exultation,  that  it  was  conclusive  proof  of  the  suf- 
ferer's guilt  Again  the  executioner  advanced,  and,  with 
the  same  weapon,  inflicted  two  or  three  additional  and 
heavy  blows. 

As  soon  as  life  was  entirely  extinct,  the  body  was  hast- 
ily buried,  with  all  its  apparel  and  decorations,  and  the 
assemblage  dispersed.  The  Wyandotts  returned  imme- 
diately to  their  hunting-grounds,  and  the  white 'men  to 
their  homes. 

Around  the  spot  where  his  bones  repose,  the  towering 
forest  has  now  given  place  to  the  grain  field;  and  the  soil 
above  nim  has,  for  years,  been  furrowed  and  refurrowed 
by  the  plowshare.  The  Wyandott  nation,  to  whom  the 
old  chief  belonged,  never  afterward  were  reconciled  to 
the  tribe  that  killed  him. 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINI.EY.  2^2 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ITINERANT     LIFE     CONTINUED. 

At  the  conference  which  was  held  November  1,  1 8 lO,  1 
w  us  appointed  to  Knox  circuit.  This  circuit  was  taken 
Irom  Fairfield  circuit  at  the  conference  held  in  Cincinnati 
on  the  thirtieth  of  September,  1809,  and,  of  course,  this 
was  the  second  year  of  its  existence.  Though  a  large 
circuit,  still  it  was  not  so  large  as  Wills  Creek.  It  com- 
menced at  the  mouth  of  Licking  opposite  Zanesville,  and 
embraced  all  the  settlements  on  that  stream  up  to  New- 
ark ;  thence  up  the  south  fork  of  Licking  to  Holmes's,  and 
on  to  Granville,  extending  as  far  as  Raccoontown,  now 
Johnstown ;  thence  on  the  north  fork  to  Robinson's  mill 
and  Lee's,  on  to  Mount  Vernon  and  Mitchell  Young's; 
thence  down  Owl  creek  to  Sapp's  and  John's,  and  down 
to  the  mouth  of  Whitewoman;  thence  down  the  Mus- 
kingum, m eluding  the  Wapatomica  country,  to  the  place 
of  beginning.  It  took  four  full  weeks  to  travel  around 
[his  circuit.  It  was  well  supplied  with  local  help,  there 
being  eight  local  preachers  living  within  its  bounds,  as 

follows:  James  Smith,  John  Green,  Rapp,  Joseph 

Pigman,  James  Fleming,  Joseph  Tharp, Parks,  and 

Pumphrey.     Six  of  these  were  from  Virginia,  and 

the  other  two  from  Monongahela.  At  that  time  they  were 
all  pious  men,  and  devoted  zealously  to  their  Master's 
cause. 

I  commenced  my  first  round  with  much  fear  and  trem- 
bling, and  most  ardently  did  I  pray  for  Divine  guidance 
and    protection.     At    some   of  the    appointments,   I    was 


221  AL'TOBIOGEAPIII     OF 

permitted  to  witness  the  fruit  of  my  labors  in  the  awaken 
ino-  and  conversion  of  sinners  to  God. 

At  Bowling  Green  the  Lord  visited  us  with  a  great  and 
powerful  revival.  Many  souls  were  converted  and  made 
to  rejoice  with  a  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  Mul- 
titudes were  also  added  to  the  Church,  and  the  people  of 
God  were  greatly  refreshed  in  spirit.  But  as  it  is  in 
almost  all  revivals  so  in  this — the  devil  was  roused  from 
his  slumbers  in  hearing  the  prison-doors  fly  open  and  the 
chains  fall  off  from  the  captives,  and  like  Giant  Despair, 
in  good  old  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  he  hastened  to 
defend  his  castle.  During  our  night  meetings  the  emis- 
saries of  Satan  cut  the  people's  clothes  with  scissors  as 
they  engaged  in  prayer.  They  also  cut  the  saddles  and 
bridles  of  the  horses.  This,  however,  only  increased  the 
zeal  of  God's  people,  and  drove  them  more  closely  to  the 
Lord  and  to  each  other. 

A  great  and  glorious  work  also  broke  out  at  Mount 
Vernon.  At  this  place  there  lived  an  Indian  woman,  who 
was  united  in  marriage  to  a  man  who  had  been  a  prisoner 
in  the  tribe  to  which  she  belonged.  She  was  in  the  habit 
of  attending  our  meetings,  and  seemed  to  take  a  great 
interest  in  all  our  exercises.  On  one  occasion,  after 
preaching,  she  staid  in  class,  and  when  I  came  round  I 
spoke  to  her  on  the  subject  of  her  soul's  salvation.  She 
wept  and  said,  "Me  too  bad,  me  no  love  get  good,  me  too 
much  sin,  me  sick,  me  no  sleep,  me  no  eat,  me  walk  all 
night,  me  no  look  to  Great  Spirit;  he  no  love  me,  me  so 
bad."  I  told  her  to  pray  to  the  Great  Spirit  and  he 
would  bless  her.  I  asked  her  if  she  did  not  love  her  child 
when  it  did  bad  and  then  was  sorry  for  it.  "0  yes,  me 
love  my  child."  Then  said  I,  "God  will  pity,  and  love, 
and  save  you  when  you  cry  and  are  sorry  for  your  sins." 
At  this  she  went  away  weeping  as  though  her  heart  would 
break.     At  the  next  meeting  of  the  class  she  came  again, 


KEV.    JAMES     B.    FINLEY.  225 

but,  instead  of  being  filled  with  sorrow  and  anguish,  she 
was  happy  in  the  love  of  God.  When  she  arose  to  speak, 
she  said,  "Me  no  more  sorry;  me  no  more  .sick;  me 
happy,  happy,  happy;  my  husband,  he  pray  to  Great 
Spirit,  and  cry  too,  and  he  happy;  den  we  go  togedder." 

She  was  an  interesting  woman.  Her  dark,  raven  tresses 
fell  in  glossy  ringlets  over  her  shoulders,  and  her  large, 
dark,  lustrous  eye  beamed  with  the  joy  of  heaven.  She 
was  the  happiest  creature,  I  think,  I  ever  beheld.  Though 
she  spoke  broken  English,  she1  was  cultivated  and  grace- 
ful, and  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  nature's  children 
that  could  be  found  in  the  western  wildwood. 

This  year  we  had  two  camp  meetings  on  our  circuit, 
and  they  were  both  attended  with  great  power.  At  the 
last  one  which  was  held,  we  were  favored  with  both  of 
our  Bishops,  Asbury  and  M'Kendree.  During  the  prog- 
ress of  this  meeting,  the  greatest  and  most  wonderful  dis- 
plays of  the  Divine  power  were  manifested,  and  many 
were  saringly  converted  to  God. 

Brother  Samuel  Hamilton  was  converted  at  this  meet- 
ing, and  soon  became  a  flaming  herald  of  the  cross.  In 
a  short  time  he  entered  the  traveling  connection,  and  has 
been  engaged  in  effective,  laborious  service  till  within  a 
few  years  past,  when,  in  consequence  of  ill-health,  he 
was  obliged  to  abandon  the  work  he  loved  so  well,  and 
take  a  superannuated  relation. 

Brother  Gavit  was  also  converted  a*t  this  meeting,  and 
still  lives  to  bear  witness  to  the  power  of  Divine  grace  in 
changing  the  heart.  He  resided  in  the  town  of  Granville, 
which  had  been  settled  by  a  company  from  New  England, 
of  the  old  stock  of  Calvinistic  Puritans.  He  was  a  con- 
firmed Deist,  and  had  been  rooted  and  grounded  in  infi- 
delity for  many  years.  In  this  town  resided  an  old  sea 
captain  with  his  wife  and  two  daughters.  The  captain 
was  a  confirmed  drunkard,  and  was  spending  all  his  prop- 

15 


226  AUTOBiC  GEAPHY    O* 

ertj  in  the  gratification  of  this  monster  appetite.  At  a 
town  meeting,  Mr.  Gavit  was  appointed  his  guardian— a 
most  wholesome  arrangement.  Every  conceivable  means 
was  used  by  th^  guardian  to  break  up  the  habit  of  the 
captain,  and  every  inducement  was  offered  to  get  him 
restored  to  sobriety.  All,  however,  proved  in  vain.  As 
a  last  resort,  he  took  him  to  camp  meeting ;  for,  although 
he  had  no  faith  in  religion,  and  cared  not  for  any  of  its 
exercises,  he  believed,  from  what  he  had  seen  and  heard, 
that  the  Methodists  had  some  process  by  which  they 
could  transform  a  drunkard  into  a  sober  man. 

The  time  at  length  arrived,  and,  with  much  moral  sua- 
sion and  physical  force,  he  succeeded  in  getting  Mr.  B. 
into  the  carriage,  in  company  with  himself,  Mrs.  Gavit, 
and  their  eldest  son.  On  Saturday  they  arrived  on  the 
ground,  and  pitched  their  tent  that  evening.  In  the 
mean  time  the  captain  stole  away  from  their  observation, 
and  became  intoxicated.  Mr.  Gavit  went  and  brought 
him  into  the  tent.  A  strict  watch  was  now  kept  over 
him,  lest  he  should  again  run  away.  The  Sabbath  passed 
away,  and  B.  became  perfectly  sober.  In  the  evening 
God  opened  heaven,  and  let  down  glory  on  the  encamp- 
ment. A  praying  circle  was  formed;  and  Mr.  Gavit, 
taking  the  captain  by  the  arm,  said,  "Let  us  go  into  the 
circle,  for  I  have  brought  you  here  to  get  you  converted, 
and  now  is  the  time." 

I  saw  them  coming ;  and  as  they  approached,  he  asked 
me  if  they  could  get  in.  I  made  a  way  for  them  in  the 
crowd,  and  they  passed  in.  After  succeeding  in  getting 
as  close  as  possible  to  those  who  were  engaged  in  leading 
i be  exercises,  Mr.  Gavit  said  to  the  captain, 

"Who  will  you  have  to  pray  for  you?" 

"I  don't  want  any  one  to  pray  for  me,"  he  replied. 

"But  you  must  get  down  on  your  knees,  and  have  the 
prayers  of  this  people," 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LET.  227 

Seeing  he  was  resolved,  and  knowing  the  determined 
character  of  the  man,  he  said, 

"Well,  if  I  must  have  prayer,  I  would  just  as  soon 
have  Mr.  C,  the  class-leader,  pray  for  me,  as  any  one.,: 

The  leader  was  soon  brought,  and  Mr.  G.  said  to  the 
captain, 

"Now  get  down  on  your  knees." 

He  replied,  "I  don't  like  to  do  that,  unless  you  wih 
kneel  with  me." 

In  an  instant  both  were  on  their  knees,  and  the  class- 
leader  began  to  pray,  with  all  the  faith  and  fervency  of 
his  soul,  for  the  salvation  of  both.  The  power  of  God 
came  down,  and,  in  less  than  two  minutes,  Gavit  fell  pros- 
trate on  the  ground,  and  screamed  for  mercy,  like  one  in 
despair.  This  frightened  the  captain,  and,  springing  from 
his  knees,  he  fled  through  the  crowd,  and  made  his  escape. 
We  carried  G.  out  of  the  crowd,  and  brought  his  wife  and 
son,  but  could  not  get  the  captain  to  move  a  step  from 
the  tent.  We  prayed  with  G.  all  night,  during  which 
time  his  wife  and  son  were  powerfully  convicted..  They 
all  continued  to  pray  and  seek  religion,  but  did  not  find 
peace. 

The  time  arrived  for  the  meeting  to  close,  and  Mr.  G. 
and  family  made  their  departure  for  home.  A  heavy  load 
was  at  his  heart,  and  he  was  loth  to  leave  the  ground. 
While  on  the  way,  so  insupportable  did  his  burden  of  sin 
become,  that  he  ordered  his  son  to  stop  the  carriage,  and 
they  all  got  out  and  held  a  prayer  meeting  by  the  road- 
side. During  this  meeting,  the  son  was  converted,  and 
the  captain  became  powerfully  convicted,  and  began  to 
cry  for  mercy.  They  again  resumed  their  journey,  the 
son  shouting,  the  father  and  mother  praying,  and  the  cap 
tain  weeping.  On  their  journey  they  were  stopped  ai 
Newark,  and  invited  to  prayer  meeting;  at  which  Mr.  G. 
and  his  wife  both  found  peace  in  believing,  and  went  on 


228  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

their  way  home,  giving  glory  to  God.  Shortly  after  thif 
the  captain  was  happily  converted.  When  I  came  rounc 
I  formed  a  class,  consisting  of  these  four  persons;  and 
this  was  the  introduction  of  Methodism  into  Granville. 
All  these  lived  happy  Christians.  Mr.  G.  had  two  younger 
sons  that  embraced  religion,  and  became  efficient  and  use* 
ful  traveling  preachers. 

We  were  not  only  favored,  at  this  camp  meeting,  with 
the  presence  of  our  beloved  bishops,  but  also  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Rev.  Robert  Manley,  a  naming  herald  of  the 
cross,  and  pioneer  of  the  Gospel  in  the  west.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  first  time  I  saw  him.  At  a  camp  meet- 
ing, held  at  brother  John  Collins's,  on  the  east  fork  of  the 
Little  Miami,  in  the  year  preceding  the  one  about  which  I 
am  writing,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  an  introduction  to  this 
devoted  and  talented  minister,  by  brother  Collins,  who 
represented  him  as  his  spiritual  father. 

When  he  arose  in  the  stand,  all  eyes  were  turned 
toward  him.  Instead  of  giving  out  a  hymn,  as  is  cus- 
tomary on  such  occasions,  before  preaching,  he  com- 
menced, in  a  full,  clear,  and  musical  voice,  singing  thai 
exceedingly-impressive,  spiritual  song, 

"Awaked  by  Sinai's  awful  sound, 
My  soul  in  guilt  and  thrall  I  found; 

I  knew  not  where  to  go. 
O'erwhelmed  with  guilt,  and  anguish  slain, 
The  sinner  must  be  born  again, 

Or  sink  to  endless  woe." 

Before  he  had  finished  singing  the  fourth  verse,  the 
power  of  God  came  down,  and  pervaded  the  vast  assem- 
bly, and-  it  became  agitated — swelling  and  surging  like 
the  sea  in  a  storm.  It  seemed  as  if  the  glory  of  God 
filled  the  entire  encampment.  At  this  meeting,  it  may  be 
said,  the  power  of  Manley  reached  its  culminating  poinr 
Never  did  he  preach  with  greater  eloquence  tind  power 
nor  were  his  efforts  ever  crowned  with  greater  success 


keV.  James  b.  einley.  229 

But  his  work  was  done.  Shortly  after  the  meeting  closed 
ne  was  taken  sick,  and  called  from  labor  to  refreshment 
and  rest  in  heaven,  by  the  summons  of  his  Master. 

"Servant  of  God,  well  done; 
Rest  from  thy  loved  employ: 
The  battle's  fought,  the  victory  won; 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy." 

During  this  round  I  made  an  attempt  to  preach  in  the 
town  of  Newark.  This  place  was  notorious  for  its  wick- 
edness; and,  as  no  house  was  opened  for  me,  I  was 
obliged  to  preach  in  the  bar-room  of  a  tavern.  Fearing 
the  citizens  would  cut  my  saddle,  or  shave  my  horse,  I 
hid  him  in  the  bushes.  When  I  stepped  into  the  door  I 
found  the  room  full ;  and  many  were  crowded  around  the 
bar,  drinking.  It  looked  to  me  more  like  the  celebration 
of  a  bacchanalian  orgie,  than  a  place  for  the  worship  of 
God.  But  I  had  made  an  appointment ;  and  I  must  fill  it 
at  all  hazards ;  and,  as  the  Gospel  was  to  be  preached  to 
e^Tery  creature,  my  mission  extended  to  every  place  this 
side  of  hell.  I  procured  a  stool,  and,  placing  it  beside  the 
door,  got  upon  it,  and  cried  out,  at  the  top  of  my  voice, 
"Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and 
Christ  shall  give  thee  life."  For  thirty  minutes  I  labored 
to  show  the  audience  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  hell, 
and  as  insensible  of  their  danger  as  though  locked  fast  in 
the  embrace  of  sleep.  I  assured  them  that  hell  would 
soon  awaken  them.  ,  When  I  had  done  warning  them  of 
their  danger,  and  inviting  them  to  Christ,  I  returned  to 
the  bushes,  found  my  horse,  and  'rode  to  brother  Chan- 
nel's. The  bar-room  folks  made  search  for  me,  but  I  was 
gone.  They  sent  me  word,  if  I  came  again  they  would 
roast  me;  but,  notwithstanding,  I  made  another  appoint- 
ment in  the  court-house. 

On  my  next  round,  fearless  of  the  threats  of  the 
bar-room  hearers,  I  oreached  in    the   court-house,  to  a 


230  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

more  orderly  congregation,  and  formed  a  class.  At  thifc 
place  I  continued  to  preach  regularly  during  the  year, 
and  was  permitted  to  witness  some  fruits  of  my  labors. 

On  one  of  my  tours  down  the  north  fork  of  Licking, 
one  evening  I  heard,  not  far  from  me,  the  report  of  a  rifle, 
and  instantly  heard  some  one  scream  as  if  shot.  It  was 
getting  dark,  and  I  rode  on  to  brother  Robinson's,  and, 
after  being  there  a  short  time,  a  messenger  came  and 
informed  us  that  a  man  had  been  shot  up  the  creek.  We 
immediately  started  for  the  place  where  he  was  reported 
to  have  been  shot,  and  found  the  track  and  blood  in  the 
snow.  We  traced  the  wounded  man  as  far  as  the  creek, 
which  he  had  crossed,  and,  following  him  by  the  blood 
which  had  spurted  from  his  wound  at  every  jump,  as  from 
a  stricken  deer,  for  about  one  mile,  where  we  found  him  in 
a  cabin,  with  a  family.  He  was  shot  through  the  body : 
but,  being  in  a  stooping  position,  the  ball  escaped  his 
vitals.  The  man  who  shot  him  was  a  neighbor;  to  whom 
the  wounded  man  had  been  a  great  friend.  He  had 
loaned  his  murderer  a  sum  of  money ;  and  for  simply  ask- 
ing the  payment  of  a  part  of  it,  the  debtor  determined  on 
killing  him,  for  the  purpose,  doubtless,  of  getting  clear  of 
the  whole  debt.  It  appeared,  from  the  testimony  of  the 
wounded  man,  that  he  had  followed  him  a  mile,  and  made 
several  attempts  to  shoot,  but  was  deterred,  from  some 
cause  or  other,  till  he  arrived  at  that  fatal  spot.  We 
bound  up  his  wounds  in  the  best  manner  we  were  able, 
and,  after  praying  with  him,  returned  home.  A  similar 
case  occurred  a  few  years  since,  in  the  melancholy  death 
of  Dr.  Parkman,  of  Boston.  0,  the  wickedness  of  the 
human  heart!     Who  can  know  it? 

Soon  after  our  second  camp  meeting  a  glorious  work 
commenced  at  the  house  of  brother  John's.  After  preach- 
ing,  and  meeting  class,  the  company  separated,  and  wenx 
id   different  directions,  to  their  homes.     On   the  way,  a 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY 


231 


young  woman,  who  had  been  convicted  at  the  meeting, 
fell  down  in  the  road,  and  greatly  alarmed  those  who 
were  with  her.  They  scarcely  knew  what  to  do;  but 
finally  came  to  the  conclusion  to  take  her  back  to  the 
place  of  meeting.  She  was  the  sister  of  the  lady  at 
whose  house  the  meeting  was  held ;  and  when  the  cir- 
cumstance of  her  having  fallen  on  the  way  home  was 
noised  abroad,  the  whole  neighborhood  came  together. 
The  religious  portion  commenced  singing  and  praying; 
and,  while  engaged  in  these  exercises,  the  power  of  God 
came  down  upon  them,  and  many  were  smitten  by  the 
Divine  influence,  and  fell  to  the  floor,  crying  for  mercy. 
The  intelligence  of  this  excitement  spread  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  and  great  multitudes,  from  a  distance,  flocked 
together  to  see  this  wonderful  thing.  The  young  woman — ■ 
Eliza  Hankins — still  remained  insensible,  without  exhibit- 
ing any  signs  of  life.  Fears  were  entertained  by  some, 
that  she  would  never  recover  from  this  state ;  but,  after 
remaining  apparently  lifeless,  for  the  space  of  thirty- two 
hours,  she  sprang  instantly  to  her  feet,  and  commenced 
singing  and  shouting  alternately.  Her  face  seemed 
lighted  up  with  an  unearthly  radiance ;  and,  as  she  spoke 
of  Jesus  and  heaven,  hi  strains  of  the  most  inimitable 
eloquence  and  sweetness,  the  whole  congregation  was 
overwhelmed,  and  we  felt  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  a 
superior  being,  rather  than  that  of  an  artless,  unsophis- 
ticated country  girl.  This  gave  a  fresh  impulse  to  the 
work  of  God,  and  the  exercises  resembled  those  of  a 
camp  meeting  more  than  any  thing  else.  The  meeting 
lasted  ten  days,  increasing  in  interest  and  power;  and 
there  were  at  least  one  hundred  happily  converted  to  God. 
An  incident  occurred  during  this  meeting  worthy  of 
particular  note ;  and,  as  it  belongs  to  a  class  01  frequent 
occurrence  in  the  early  days  of  Methodism  in  this  coun- 
try, *  will  narrate  it.    A  ywng  man  had  come  to  the  meet- 


232  AUTOBIOGKAPHY     OF 

ing,  who  seemed  to  have  been  possessed  of  the  devii. 
His  ravings  and  blasphemy  shocked  all  who  heard  him. 
He  boastingly  exclaimed  that  he  defied  the  power  of 
God;  and  that  those  who  had  fallen  were  overcome  by 
the  influence  of  fear,  or  nervous  weakness.  "While  this 
stout-hearted  young  man  was  listening  to  the  fervid  elo- 
quence of  the  young  woman  before  described,  he  sprang 
suddenly  from  his  feet,  and  fell  his  whole  length  on  the 
floor.  Had  he  been  shot  through  the  heart,  he  would  not 
nave  fallen  more  suddenly,  or  been  more  lifeless  to  all 
appearance.  Here  was  a  marked  demonstration  of  the 
power  of  God,  in  irresistible  conviction ;  and  I  determined 
to  watch  the  issue  closely.  His  companions  in  sin  were 
terribly  alarmed,  and  many  of  them  hurried  away.  After 
lying  a  short  time,  the  limbs  of  the  young  man  became 
perfectly  rigid,  and  remained  in  this  state  for  eight  hours, 
when  they  relaxed,  and  he  was  seized  with  convulsions  of 
such  an  intense  and  powerful  character,  that  it  seemed  as 
though  he  must  die  from  the  agony.  While  thus  torn,  as 
the  demonized  young  man  in  the  Gospel,  till  the  hearts 
of  all  we're  wrung  with  sympathy  at  his  sufferings,  and 
some  began  to  fear  the  consequences,  instantly  he  sprang 
to  his  feet,  praising  God  for  his  salvation,  and  exhorting 
all  his  friends  to  seek  an  interest  in  the  Savior.  His  con- 
version was  a  matter  of  astonishment  to  all.  One  man, 
who  was  inveterately  opposed  to  the  revival,  said  that  it 
was  the  work  of  the  devil.  I  replied,  "If  it  be  a  work  us 
the  devil,  when  this  young  man  recovers  from  this  state 
he  will  curse  and  swear  as  formerly ;  but  if  it  be  a  work 
of  God,  h\\  oaths  and  curses  will  be  turned  into  prayer9 
and  praises."  When  the  gainsayer  witnessed  the  wonder- 
ful change  wrought  on  the  young  man,  he  was  con- 
founded, and  went  away. 

The  Lord  crowned  our  labors  this  year  with  abundan' 
success.      Upward  of   two  hundred  were   added  to   tb- 


EEV.    JAMES    B.    ElNLEY, 


233 


Church  I  left  this  circuit  as  I  did  my  first  one,  with 
many  tears,  and  knew  not  how  strongly  my  heart,  was 
attached  to  my  brethren  till  I  was  called  to  separate  from 
them. 

At  the  conference  held  in  Cincinnati  in  1811,  E.  Bow- 
man was  appointed  to  be  my  successor.  This  was  A  sad 
appointment.  He  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  commenced 
Bowing  the  vile  seed  of  Arianism  and  Socinianism,  which 
spread  over  the  whole  circuit.  It  was  not  long  till  it 
sprang  up  and  produced  its  deadly  fruit.  James  Smith, 
John  Green,  and  other  local  preachers  embraced  this  her- 
esy and  joined  the  New  Lights.  Green  soon  backslid, 
lost  the  comforts  of  religion,  and,  as  I  learned,  became  a 
drunkard — broke  the  hearts  of  and  beggared  his  once 
happy  family.  Rapp  also  embraced  the  doctrine,  and  lost 
the  grace  of  God  out  of  his  heart. 

Henry  Haines,  once  a  good  man,  full  of  faith  and  good 
fruits,  went  off  with  them,  and  soon  after  became  de- 
ranged and  hung  himself.  Mody  was  also  among  the 
number  of  apostates  from  the  faith.  He  erected  a  dis- 
tillery, lost  all  his  beautiful  property  at  Bowling  Green, 
ruined  his  interesting  family,  and  died  a  most  horrible 
death.  Others,  who  left  in  this  heresy,  became  Univer- 
salists  and  infidels.  Never  was  that  Scripture  more  clearly 
fulfilled  than  in  the  case  of  these  unfortunate  men — "they 
have  chosen  their  own  way  and  I  will  choose  their  delu- 
sions." 

It  is  now  more  than  forty  years  since  this  sad  heresy 
prevailed,  and  its  desolating  effects  are  yet  to  be  seen. 
The  history  of  this  one  man,  intrusted  with  the  care 
of  souls,  but  who  proved  faithless,  is  an  illustration  of 
the  proverb,  "One  sinner  destroyeth  much  good."  Let 
all  beware  how  they  depart  from  sound  doctrine.  The 
first  digression  from  the  old  and.  beaten  path  of  truth  is 
attended  with  danger,  and  no  one  can  tell  whither  he  shalJ 
20 


234  ATlTOlilOCitiAPHY     OF 

wander,  or  what  will  be  his  end,  who  departs  from  the 
good  and  the  right  way.  A  few  years  after  Thrap  and 
Fleming  went  off  with  the  Radicals.  Pigman,  Parks,  and 
Pumphrey,  only  three  out  of  nine  local  preachers  on  the 
circuit,  remained  faithful  to  their  high  calling.  They 
lived  foi  many  years  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  destitute  set- 
tlements, and  do  good  in  every  department  of  the  Church 
for  which  they  were  fitted,  and  having  finished  the  work 
assigned  them,  they  entered  into  rest.  While  the  ''mem- 
ory of  the  wicked  shall  rot,  the  righteous  shall  be  had  in 
everlasting  remembrance." 

Brother  Cratzer,  the  person  with  whom  I  boarded,  and 
one  of  the  most  devoted  of  Christians,  and  talented  and 
useful  exhorters,  fell  into  this  fatal  error  and  became  a 
New  Light  preacher.  But,  alas  !  like  his  deluded  compan- 
ions, he  departed  from  God  and  reaped  the  bitter  fruits — 
poverty,  sin,  and  death!  The  memory  of  these  men 
should  prove  as  beacons  to  warn  all  of  the  dangerous 
rocks  on  which  they  wrecked  their  hopes. 

On  this  circuit  lived  old  brother  Carpenter,  whose  son 
Samuel  has  since  become  a  useful  local  preacher.  Brother 
Carpenter  resided  in  St.  Albans  township,  and,  being  in- 
vited, I  went  to  his  house  and  preached.  This  was  the 
first  sermon  ever  preached  in  the  township. 

On  Owl  creek  there  lived  a  Universalist,  who  like  the 
most  of  them,  was  full  of  controversy;  and  to  hear  him 
talk,  one  would  imagine  that  he  considered  himself  able 
to  overturn  all  orthodoxy,  and  even  "wiser  than  seven 
men  who  could  render  a  reason."  He  always  came  to  our 
meetings,  and  invariably  pressed  me  to  go  home  with  him. 
I  was  considerably  annoyed  by  the  fellow,  and  one  day,  for 
the  purpose  of  getting  rid  of  him,  agreed  to  accompany 
him  home.  He  was  a  real  backwoods  hunter,  rough  and 
uncouth  in  his  manners.  He  lived  about  four  miles  from 
the  appointment,  and  we  started  through  the  woods,  trav- 


REV.    JAMES    £.    FlttLEY.  235 

eling.  part  of  the  time,  a  cow  path.  When  we  arrived  at 
his  cabin,  which  was  situated  in  a  corn-patch,  and  only 
about  sixteen  feet  square,  I  said  to  him,  "Bill,  what  shali 
I  do  with  my  horse?"  "Tie  him  to  the  fence,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Well,  but  what  shall  I  give  him  to  eat  ?"  "  Feed 
him  with  cut  up  corn,"  said  he.  It  was  too  late  to  retreat, 
so  I  went  into  the  cabin,  and  his  wife  prepared  some  veni- 
son in  backwoods  fashion,  and  we  partook  of  our  supper. 
As  soon  as  we  had  finished  our  repast,  Bill  got  down  his 
old  Bible  and  said,  "Now  I  have  got  }rou,  and  you  will 
de  obliged  to  argue  with  me  on  the  subject  of  religion.  1 
nave  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity  for  a  long  time  to 
have  a  controversy  with  you."  "  No,"  said  I,  "Bill,  you 
'jave  not  a  sufficient  amount  of  sense  to  hold  an  argument 
on  any  religious  subject.  You  brought  me  here  as  a 
Methodist  preacher,  and  I  must  instruct  you  and  your 
family ;  sc  call  in  all  your  children  and  we  will  have 
prayers."  Notwithstanding  all  his  excuses  and  pleadings 
I  insisted  upon  the  course  I  had  adopted,  and  his  wife  and 
children  were  called  in,  and  I  read  the  Scriptures,  ex- 
plained, and  applied  the  truth  to  all,  and  then  prayed  to 
God  for  their  salvation.  I  trust  the  poor  wife  and  chil- 
dren were  benefited,  if  the  redoubtable  Bill  was  not.  Af- 
ter spending  a  rather  unpleasant  night  in  the  loft  of  the 
cabin,  amoni»-  the  chickens,  I  arose  in  the  morning,  had 
prayers  with  the  family,  and  departed.  Bill  never  aftei 
annoyed  me  with  invitations  to  go  home  with  him. 

At  the  Cincinnati  conference,  which  I  have  already 
alluded  to,  I  was  appointed  to  Fairfield  circuit.  A  mis- 
take in  the  Minutes  represents  brother  Isaac  Quinn  as 
having  been  appointed  to  this  circuit  in  chp  gc.  Brother 
Quinn  was  on  the  Tombigbee  circuit  with  William  Houston. 
These  brethren  were  both  elected  delegates  to  the  Genera) 
conference  of  1812.  They  both  came  up  from  that  con- 
ference, but  did  not  return.     In  June  brother  Quinn  came 


23(>  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

home  sick,  with  his  brother  James,  and  remained  till  the. 
next  annual  conference. 

This  circuit  received  the  name  of  Fairfield  in  1809,  and 
had  been  traveled  the  two  preceding  years  by  brother 
Ralph  Lotspiech.  He  was  of  German  descent,  born  in 
Virginia,  and  raised  in  Tennessee,  where  he  was  converted 
to  God  and  called  to  preach  the  Gospel.  He  was  ex- 
tremely meek  and  unassuming  in  all  his  manners  and  de- 
portment, deeply  pious,  and  always  wore  a  serious  air. 
In  his  discourses  he  wept  much,  and  from  this  circum- 
stance was  called,  by  his  brethren,  the  "  weeping  prophet.'* 
His  pulpit  labors  were  characterized  with  close  practical 
application  to  the  consciences  of  his  hearers,  and  attended 
with  good  results  wherever  he  ministered.  While  travel- 
ing Deer  Creek  circuit  he  was  attacked  with  sickness, 
which  was  unto  death.  Realizing  that  his  work  was  done, 
he  called  his  colleague  to  his  bedside,  and  told  him  to  get 
a  piece  of  paper  and  make  an  inventory  of  his  property. 
Though  he  had  but  little,  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  "set  his 
house  in  order"  before  he  died.  The  task,  which  was  a 
short  and  easy  one,  being  completed,  and  his  assets  and 
liabilities  reckoned  up,  he  said,  "Well,  after  paying  my 
debts  there  will  be  one  hundred  dollars  left,  and  that  will 
support  my  wife  and  almost  helpless  children  [two  of 
them  being  twin  babes]  for  one  year,  and  then  God  will 
provide.  Now,"  said  he  to  his  colleague,  "my  work  is 
done ;  turn  me  over  with  my  face  to  the  wall."  This 
being  done,  he  commenced  singing  in  soft  but  sweet  and 
plaintive  tones, 

"Great  spoil  I  shall  win 
From  death,  hell,  and  sin; 
'Midst  outward  affliction, 
Shall  feel  Chi'ist  within. 
And  when  I'm  to  die, 
Receive  me,  I'll  cry; 
For  Jesus  hath  loved  ir«, 


REV.     JAMES    ]?.     FINLEY.  237 

I  can  not  tell  why ; 
But  this  I  do  find, 
We  two  are  so  joined, 
He'll  not  live  in  heaven, 
And  leave  me  behind." 

The  last  strain  was  finished,  and  the  soul  of  the  "weeping 
prophet"  went  out,  with  his  last  song,  to  that  bright 
world  where  "there  is  no  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  cry- 
ing ;  but  where  God  shall  wipe  the  tears  from  all  eyes." 
How  rich  must  heaven  be  in  pure  and  sainted  spirits,  whc 
have,  in  the  lapse  of  six  thousand  years,  gone  up  to  people 
its  bright  abodes ! 

This  circuit  was  large,  having  twenty-five  appointments, 
and  I  increased  the  number  to  thirty-eight  before  the  ex- 
piration of  the  year.  It  extended  from  the  town  of  Put- 
nam, on  the  bank  of  the  Muskingum,  opposite  Zanesville, 
ten  miles  west  of  Lancaster,  and  from  the  head  waters  of 
Licking  to  the  falls  of  the  Hockhocking,  including  ail  the 
settlements  on  Jonathan's  creek  and  Rush  creek.  It  em- 
braced parts  of  five  counties;  namely,  Muskingum,  Lick- 
ing, Fairfield,  Perry,  and  Ross.  I  traveled  round  this  cir- 
cuit every  four  weeks,  and  formed  fifteen  new  societies. 
The  local  preachers  were  John  Goshen,  Jesse  Stoneman, 

Park, Newman, Bright,  Jesse  Spurgeon, 

and  Martin  Fate.  Spurgeon  went  off  with  the  party  of 
Methodists  organized  in  Cincinnati  by  the  Rev.  William 
Burke.  Stoneman,  Park,  and  Bright  lived,  labored,  and 
died  in  the  Church.  Brothers  Goshen  and  Fate  are  still 
living,  advanced  in  years,  but  laboring  on  the  walls  of 
Zion.  Robert  Manley,  the  first  missionary  to  the  Mus- 
kingum, died  on  this  circuit  the  year  before  I  came,  full 
of  faith  and  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Among  the  more  prominent  of  the  old  Methodists  on 
this  circuit,  were  Edward  Teal,  William  Hamilton,  and 
Benjamin  Smith,  the  latter  being  mighty  in  faith  and 
prayer      Robert  Cloud  also  lived  within  its  bounds.     The 


238  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

strongest  societies  were  on  Rush  creek,  at  Hamilton's, 
Cooper's,  Hog  Run,  and  Thomas  Ijam's.  Many  strong 
men  and  mothers  in  Israel  had  emigrated  and  settled  in 
these  neighborhoods.  I  never  shall  foroet  the  true-hearted 
Christian  kindness  and  affection  with  which  I  was  received 
and  treated  by  the  good,  simple-hearted  class  at  Hog  Run. 
They  took  me  in  when  a  stranger,  and  comforted  me  by 
their  counsel  and  prayers.  It  is  with  no  ordinary  feelings 
of  affection  that  I  call  these  brethren  to  remembrance. 
Brother  Pitzer  and  family  were  especially  endeared  to  my 
heart.  He  has  lon^  since  entered  into  rest,  and  his  widow 
and  children  have  emigrated  to  the  far  west.  As  I  before 
remarked,  I  labored  alone  on  this  circuit  till  after  the 
General  conference,  which  was  held  in  May,  when  brother 
Isaac  Quinn  came  on,  with  feeble  health,  from  the  south, 
and,  as  far  as  circumstances  would  permit,  labored  with 
me. 

This  year  will  long  be  remembered  as  the  one  in  which 
this  whole  region  was  shaken  by  a  mighty  earthquake. 
On  the  night  of  the  twelfth  of  February,  I  was  awakened 
by  the  rocking  of  the  house  in  which  I  slept.  It  seemed 
as  if  my  bedstead  was  on  a  rough  sea,  and  the  waves 
were  rolling  under  it,  so  sensible  were  the  undulations. 
Slight  shocks  were,  felt  almost  every  day  and  night  for 
some  time.  One  day,  while  I  was  preaching  a  funeral, 
the  house  began  to  rock  and  the  cupboard  doors  flew  open. 
The  people  became  alarmed  and  commenced  shrieking  and 
running.     It  was  a  time  of  great  terror  to  sinners. 

The  greatest  shock  was  felt  on  the  sixteenth  day  of  the 
month.  It  commenced  at  ten  o'clock  and  lasted  fifteen 
minutes.  I  was  then  in  the  town  of  Putnam,  opposite  to 
Zancsville,  where  the  Legislature  was  then  in  session.  It 
was  reported  that  the  steeple  of  the  state-house  vibrated 
some  five  or  six  inches,  like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock.  Il 
was  a  time  of  the  most  awful  suspense.     Consternation 


REV.        AMES    B.     FINLEY.  VoV 

pat  on  every  countenance,  especially  upon  the  wicked, 
who  fled  into  the  streets,  clinging  one  to  another,  and 
crying  for  mercy.  In  the  town  of  Putnam  there  lived  a 
sister  Gardiner,  a  woman  of  great  piety,  and  who  was 
often  persecuted  for  shouting,  which  she  often  did,  not 
only  at  meetings,  but  at  home,  while  engaged  in  her  daily 
domestic  avocations.  On  this  day,  while  the  houses  were 
rocking  and  the  chimneys  falling,  as  though  the  dissolu- 
tion of  all  things  was  at  hand,  sister  Gardiner  ran  out 
into  the  street  shouting  and  clapping  her  hands,  exclaim- 
ing, "Glory,  glory,  glory  to  God!  My  Savior  is  coming! 
I  am  my  Lord's  and  he  is  mine  I"  Thus  she  showed  her 
enemies,  who  were  loudly  crying  for  mercy,  that  her  re- 
ligion, however  much  despised,  could  stand  the  test  of  so 
awful  an  hour. 

Although  we  had  some  favorable  indications,  before  this 
event,  of  a  revival,  it  contributed  greatly  to  increase  the 
interest  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Multitudes  who  pre- 
viously paid  no  attention  to  the  subject  of  religion,  now 
flocked  out  to  meeting,  and  the  power  of  God  was  mani  • 
fested,  not  only  in  the  earthquake  and  the  fire,  but  in  the 
still  small  yet  powerful  voice.  The  number  of  converts 
was  great,  and  the  work  extended  almost  every-where. 
The  most  signal  manifestation  of  Divine  power  was  at 
Rush  creek,  at  the  house  of  David  Swazy.  The  neigh- 
borhood had  been  notorious  for  wickedness,  and,  especially, 
for  drunkenness.  The  young  people  seemed  to  devote  al1 
their  time  to  mirth  and  revelry;  but  now,  instead  of 
threading  the  giddy  mazes  of  the  dance  at  the  sound  of 
the  viol  till  past  the  noon  of  night,  the  meetings  were 
crowded  with  anxious  souls,  and  the  cry  of  penitence, 
which  wakes  the  harps  of  angels,  and  the  songs  of  joy 
frcm  happy  converts,  were  the  only  sounds  that  broke 
upon  the  stillness  of  the  night  air. 

On  one  occasion  I  stood  upon  a  table  in  h  new  cabin 


240  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

and  cried  out,  "For  the  great  day  of  his  wrath  is  come 
arid  who  shall  be  able  to  stand?"  That  night  will  nevei 
be  forgotten  in  time  or  eternity.  Many  hardened  sinners 
fell,  before  the  power  of  God,  like  those  slain  in  battle 
Many  aiso  found  pardon  and  salvation  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb. 

On  my  next  round,  after  preaching  at  this  place,  I  was 
about  to  meet  the  class — a  thing  which  I  never  neglected — 
when  one  of  the  brethren  came  to  me  and  said,  "Mr.  H., 
the  great  distiller  of  whisky,  is  here  with  his  party,  and 
they  have  determined  to  break  into  class  meeting."  1 
placed  old  brother  Hooper  at  the  door,  and  charged  him 
to  keep  it  shut  and  let  no  one  pass  without  permission 
As  our  meeting  progressed  the  members  became  happy, 
and  began  to  sing  and  shout  most  lustily.  This  attracted 
the  attention  of  old  brother  Hooper,  and  he  became  more 
interested  in  the  meeting  than  watchful  of  the  door.  In 
he  mean  time  H.  came,  lifted  the  latch,  opened  the  door, 
and  walked  in.  He  had  no  sooner  got  in  than  brother 
Hooper  reclosed  the  door  and  stood  against  it,  fearing  the 
others  would  follow  the  example  of  their  Jeader.  The 
great  champion  of  whisky  and  infidelity  was  how  in  a  hot 
place,  and  he  seemed  to  be  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  do. 
I  went  up  to  him,  and  kindly  laying  my  arm  around  his 
neck  began  to  recommend  to  him  my  loving  Savior.  At 
this  he  became  somewhat  enraged,  but  I  held  on  to  him 
and  continued  to  press  my  entreaties.  Presently  he  began 
to  tremble  from  head  to  foot,  like  an  aspen  leaf.  Still  en- 
couraged, I  poured  the  truth  upon  him,  and  his  agitation 
increased,  and  letting  go  my  hold  he  screamed  out  with 
all  his  might  and  fell  his  whole  length  upon  the  floor.  At 
that  moment  the  excitement  in  the  room  was  intense,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  heaven  and  earth  had  come  together.  The 
noise  might  have  been  heard  a  mile  distant.  At  this 
point  brother  Hooper  opened  the  door  and  cried  to  those 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  241 

outside  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Glory  be  to  God,  H.  is 
down,  H.  is  down  I"  The  rush  to  the  door,  of  those  from 
without,  was  such  as  can  not  be  described.  As  they  came 
rushing  forward  they  fell  upon  one  another  in  the  door- 
way, and  so  completely  blocked  it  up  that  none  could  pass 
either  way.  The  excitement  rose  to  a  tremendous  hight, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  close  the  meeting.  Those  who 
had  not  fallen  under  the  power  of  conviction  ran  to  their 
horses  and  fled  with  the  greatest  precipitancy  and  conster- 
nation to  their  homes.  The  meeting  lasted  till  sunrise  the 
next  morning.  Several  were  converted,  and  H.  joined  the 
Church,  though  he  did  not  experience  a  change  of  heart. 
Had  he  given  up  his  distillery  he  doubtless  would  have 
been  converted ;  but  God  will  not  hear  those  who  regard 
.niquity  in  their  hearts,  or  hold  unrighteousness  in  tneir 
hands.  He  went  away,  and,  as  I  believe,  lived  and  died 
a  manufacturer  of  the  accursed  poison.  Some  good,  how- 
ever, resulted  from  his  conviction,  as  it  completely  cured 
him  of  his  disposition  to  annoy  and  persecute  the  people 
of  God. 

Richard  M'Mahan,  an  amiable,  talented,  and  eloquent 
young  preacher,  who  traveled  Knox  circuit  one  year  be- 
fore, died  at  the  house  of  brother  John.  Feeling  that 
the  vows  of  God  were  on  him,  and  he  must  not  stoop  to 
play  with  earthly  flowers,  he  turned  away  from  all  the 
endearments  of  home  and  entered  the  rugged  field  of  itin- 
erant  life.  He  bore  hardness  as  a  good  soldier ;  and 
though  the  conflict  was  severe,  it  was  short  and  glorious. 
Away  from  home  and  kindred,  in  the  wilderness,  he 
yielded  up  his  spirit  to  God.  It  was  a  calm  and  quiet 
evening  of  summer.  All  nature  seemed  hushed  into  still- 
ness, while  in  that  cottage  in  the  wilderness  the  youthful 
herald  of  the  cross  was  sinking  to  rest.  Already  had  he 
passed  the  land  of  Beulah,  breathing  the  air  and  hearing 
the  songs  of  the  celestial  city,  and  now  there  remained  for 

16 


k242  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

him  nothing  but  the  passage  of  Jordan.  As  he  neared  it 
the  heavenly  glory  gleamed  upon  his  brow ;  and  no  sooner 
did  his  feet  touch  the  waters  than  an  angelic  convoy  bore 
him  safely  home. 

A^ain  and  again  have  I  visited  the  grave  of  this  sainted 
one.  It  was  in  the  woods — a  lone,  sequestered  spot, 
where  Solitude  herself  might  have  chosen  a  seat;  and  yet, 
to  me,  no  place  could  have  been  more  favorable  to  relig- 
ious meditation.  No  pen  could  describe  my  feelings  the 
first  time  I  visited  it  alone.  The  forest  cast  its  deep  shade 
around.  Scattered  here  and  there  were  wild  flowers, 
which,  one  has  said,  are  the  alphabet  of  angels,  whereby 
they  write  on  hills  and  plains  mysterious  truths.  Around 
the  grave  was  placed  a  rude  inclosure.  Here  I  read  my 
Bible  on  my  knees,  and  prayed,  and  sang,  and  often  dia  ii 
*eem  to  me  that  1  was  quite  on  the  verge  of  heaven. 


BEV.    .TAMES    B.     FINLEY  243 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ITINERANT     LIFE     CONTINUED. 

As  fruits  of  the  revivals  this  year  may  be  reckoned 
seven  interesting  young  men,  who  were  subsequently  called 
of  God  to  preach  the  Gospel — James  and  Jacob  Hooper. 
Henry,  Samuel,  and  Job  Baker,  Samuel  Hamilton,  and 
Cornelius  Springer.  They  all  entered  the  traveling  con- 
nection, and  labored  with  zeal  and  success  for  many  years. 
The  latter,  however,  went  off  in  the  Radical  secession, 
and  became  the  editor  of  a  paper  which  was  adopted  as 
the  organ  of  Radicalism  for  the  west.  This  sheet  con- 
tained many  bitter  things  against  the  government  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  representing  it  as  an  oligar- 
chy, and  the  bishops,  presiding  elders,  and  preachers  as  sc 
many  tyrants,  lording  it  over  God's  heritage.  The  tran- 
sition from  schism  .o  railing  is  easily  made,  and  he,  unfor- 
tunately for  himself  and  many  others  who  left  the  Church, 
which  had  taken  them  from  obscurity  and  nursed  them 
into  character  and  importance,  lost  sight  of  their  voca- 
tion of  calling  sinners  to  repentance  and  feeding  the  flock 
over  which  they  were  placed  as  shepherds,  and  spent 
their  time  and  exhausted  their  talents  in  laboring  to  break 
uown  the  fold  from  which  they  had  escaped.  I  shall  not, 
however,  bring  against  them  any  railing  accusations;  "to 
their  own  Master  they  stand  or  fall."  Many  of  them 
were  doubtless  sincere,  good  men ,  but  they  were  wonder- 
fully misled  by  a  few  disappointed,  and,  consequently,  dis- 
affected leaders. 

Samuel  Baker  closed  his  earthly  labors  m.  great  peace, 


24.4  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

and  entered  into  rest.  Job  Baker  located,  studied  medi 
cine,  and  went  south.  Since  then  I  have  not  heard  any 
thing  concerning  his  history.  Jacob  Hooper  traveled  vari- 
ous circuits  till  his  health  failed,  when  he  located,  and  con- 
tinued, as  far  as  circumstances  would  allow,  to  labor  in 
the  vineyard  of  his  Lord.  He  yet  lives,  I  believe,  a  good 
man  and  faithful  minister.  James  Hooper  still  remains 
effective,  and  there  is,  perhaps,  no  traveling  preacner  in 
the  connection  who  is  more  devoted  to  the  missionary  and 
Sabbath  school  cause,  the  latter  particularly  claiming  his 
most  earnest  and  faithful  attention.  Samuel  Hamilton, 
till  within  a  few  years,  has  been  a  most  laborious  and 
efficient  traveling  preacher.  P'or  many  years  he  served 
the  Church  as  a  presiding  elder.  Few  sons  in  the  Gospel 
have  lived  to  graduate  among  the  fathers  with  more  fidel- 
ity or  honor.  Though  now  worn  down  with  toil  and  halt- 
ing to  the  tomb,  he  is  calmly  and  patiently  waiting  the 
call  of  his  Master  to  enter  into  rest.     May  his  setting 

"  Sun  in  smiles  decline, 
And  bring  a  pleasing  night !" 

Henry  Baker  also  lost  his  health  or:  the  rough  and  toil- 
some field  of  itinerant  life.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his 
mission  was  at  an  end,  and  following  the  leadings  of  Prov- 
idence, he  commenced  the  study  of  medicine,  which  he 
prosecuted  with  vigor  and  success.  In  due  time  he  was 
admitted  to  practice,  and  by  dint  of  application  and  skill 
rose  t©  eminence  in  his  profession.  He  became  the  favor- 
ite physician  of  some  of  our  older  bishops.  After  prac- 
ticing medicine  for  several  years  and  his  health  being 
somewhat  restored,  he  felt  the  returning  fires  of  itiner- 
ancy glowing  within  his  heart,  and  he  accordingly  re- 
entered the  traveling  connection,  where  he  remains  to  this 
day,  a  sound  doctrinal  and  practical  divine. 

So  extensive  and  powerful  was  the  revival  on  this  cir- 
cuit, t)iat  in  the  short  space  of  three  months  three  hup 


REV.    JAMES    fc.    FtttLEY.  245 

dred  souis  were  converted  and  brought  into  the  Church. 
I  have  in  my  journal  all  their  names,  together  with  the 
classes  with  which  they  were  connected,  and  the  date  of 
their  joining.  A  great  majority  of  these  ran  well  in  the 
Christian  course,  held  out  to  the  end,  and  received  the 
victor's  crown;  some,  however,  turned  back  to  "the 
beggarly  elements  of  the  world,"  and  thus  brought  a 
reproach  on  the  goodly  cause. 

This  year  I  commenced  preaching  at  Mr.  John  Dillon's 
iron-works,  on  Licking,  about  six  miles  from  Zanesville. 
Mr.  Dillon  was  a  member  of  the  society  of  Friends,  or 
Quakers,  and  strongly  attached  to  that  denomination.  He 
had  married  a  lady  in  Baltimore  who  was  a  Methodist; 
but  the  influence  of  the  husband,  as,  alas !  it  too  often 
proves,  so  far  as  the  Methodist  Church  is  concerned,  over- 
came her  denominational  attachments,  and  she  joined  the 
Quakers.  Some  years  afterward,  however,  by  way  of  re- 
prisal, they  were  both  taken  in  the  Methodist  net.  Brother 
Dillon  has  been  for  many  years  an  acceptable  and  useful 
class-leader  in  the  Church.  During  his  life  he  has  been 
extensively  engaged  in  commerce  and  manufactures.  He 
is  a  man  of  talent  and  enterprise.  His  indomitable  energy 
and  perseverance  have  enabled  him  to  breast  reverses  in 
fortune  and  business,  under  which  thousands  would  have 
been  irretrievably  ruined.  The  town  of  Zanesville,  where 
he  lived  for  many  years  in  a  beautiful  mansion  on  the 
bank  of  the  Muskingum,  the  home  of  hospitality  and 
kindness,  is  indebted  to  him  for  much  of  its  prosperity. 
He  took  a  lively  interest  in  whatever  pertained  to  agricul- 
ture and  was  calculated  to  develop  the  resources  of  the 
country,  as  his  official  acts  in  the  agricultural  board  of 
that  county  will  show.  He  was  also  a  warm  friend  of 
temperance  and  the  cause  of  colonization.  Deeply  de- 
voted to  the  Church,  he  has  ever  been  ready  to  advauce 
her  institutions.     Mrs.  Dillon,  his  partner,  several  years 


2i6 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 


since  entered  into  rest.  She  could  always  bo  distin- 
guished in  the  Church,  even  in  the  latter  day  of  Method- 
ist refinement,  by  her  neat  but  rich  Quaker  dress.  She 
was  a  lady  of  education  and  refinement,  and  ardently 
attached  to  the  Church  ;  and  though  called,  from  her  posi- 
tion in  life,  to  mingle  with  the  first  class,  yet  never  was 
ashamed  of  the  humble  society  to  which  she  belonged. 
Her  parlors  were  always  open  to  prayer  and  class  meet- 
ings. Every  member  of  the  family  embraced  religion  at 
one  time  and  another  during  life,  and  joined  the  Church. 
Four  of  the  children  have  died;  namely,  Keziah,  Lloyd, 
Margaret,  and  Elizabeth.  They  all,  I  believe,  died  in  the 
full  assurance  of  faith,  and  in  the  hope  of  a  glorious  im- 
mortality. The  sufferings  of  Lloyd  were  protracted  and 
severe ;  but  he  bore  them  with  the  most  exemplary  pa- 
tience and  fortitude  to  the  last,  frequently  rejoicing  in 
hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  Margaret — the  gifted  and 
accomplished  Margaret — who  early  gave  her  heart  to  God 
and  consecrated  herself  devotedly  and  exclusively  to  his 
service,  like  one  of  earth's  choicest  flowers,  too  bright 
and  beautiful  to  last,  was  also  called  to  join  the  company 
of  the  early  dead  in  that  better  land.  She  was  smitten 
before  her  life  had  reached  its  prime,  and,  sanctified  by 
suffering,  ripened  for  heaven.  That  the  loving  in  life  in 
death  might  not  be  divided,  her  younger  sister  soon  fol 
lowed  her  to  the  brighter  mansions  above.  May  all  the 
members  of  this  household  form  an  unbroken  family  in 
heaven !  Two  of  the  sons  are  traveling  preachers — the 
elder  a  member  of  the  Ohio  conference,  and  the  younger  a 
nrssionary  on  the  shores  of  the  distant  Pacific. 

But  to  resume  my  narrative.  At  Dillon's  iron-works 
there  were  many  who  were  grossly  addicted  to  habits  of 
intoxication.  My  first  appointment  was  at  Mr.  Dick's 
tavern,  and  the  prospect  was  any  thing  but  encouraging. 
While   1   was   trying  to  preach   many  were   engaged    in 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FIXLEY. 


2*17 


drinking  and  swearing.  On  reproving  them  for  their  con- 
duct, one  fellow  turned  round,  with  his  glass  in  hand  and  a 
leering  look,  and  said,  "You  go  on  with  your  business  of 
preaching  and  we  will  mind  ours."  However,  the  Lord 
can  work  and  none  can  hinder;  and  notwithstanding  the 
unpropitious  circumstances,  one  of  those  miserable  men 
was  awakened,*  and,  seeking,  found  religion.  I  formed  a 
class  consisting  of  John  and  Jacob  Hooper,  J.  Dittenhiffer, 
the  new  convert,  brother  Cooper  and  wife,  and  Samuel 
Gassaway,  a  colored  man.  These  were  all  in  the  employ 
of  Mr.  Dillon,  at  the  furnace.  At  one  time  I  went  down 
to  the  furnace,  and,  standing  on  a  large  salt  kettle,  deliv- 
ered a  temperance  speech.  After  I  was  through,  I  took  a 
vote  and  voted  all  kinds  of  intoxicating  drinks  out  of  and 
from  around  the  furnace,  and  pledged  them  to  keep  them 
out  forever.  I  then  went  to  work  and  got  up  a  subscrip- 
tion to  build  a  hewed  log  meeting-house.  Mr.  Dillon  gave 
a  lot  of  ground,  and  I  raised  enough,  in  one  morning,  to 
pay  for  the  building.  In  a  short  time  the  timbers  were 
all  upon  the  ground  and  preparations  were  being  made  for 
a  raising.  At  this  stage  of  progress,  Bishop  M'Kendree 
came  along  on  .his  western  "tour,  and  we  solicited  him  to 
preach  the  dedication  sermon.  This,  of  course,  was  alto- 
gether anticipatory,  as  the  corner-stone  had  not  yet  been 
laid.  At  that  time,  however,  we  were  not  such  sticklers 
for  order,  and  so  our  venerable  Bishop  took  his  stand  upon 
the  rock  on  which  the  church  was  to  be  built,  and  preached 
a  most  powerful  sermon  from  that  memorable  text,  "On 
this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church,  and  the  gates  of  hell 
6hall  not  prevail  against  it."  It  was  a  soul-refreshing 
season,  and  many  were  awakened  and  converted  to  God, 
while  the  hearts  of  believers  were  greatly  blessed.  In 
progress  of  time  this  house  was  finished,  and  remained  a 
place  for  divine  worship  for  many  years.  Subsequent!? 
it  was  taken  dowr.   and  removed  about  one  mile  distant, 


24S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

where  it  was  re  erected  and  continued  as  a  temple  of  grace 
That  humble  edifice  remains  to  this  day,  and  its  walls  sti? 
echo  the  sound  of  thanksgiving  and  the  voice  of  praise. 
In  this  neighborhood  a  gracious  work  of  God  was  carried 
on,  and  another  broke  out  a  few  miles  distant  under  the 
labors  of  a  local  brother — Rev.  John  Goshen.  The  place 
had  been  proverbial  for  wickedness  and  opposition  to  god- 
liness. This  laborer  in  the  vineyard  sought  out  this  field 
of  wickedness,  and  took  it  into  his  work.  He  continued 
to  labor,  and  weep,  and  pray  over  the  devoted  inhabitants 
till  the  Lord  heard  and  revealed  his  arm  of  power.  The 
devil's  kingdom  was  terribly  shaken  by  the  conversion  of 
the  great  champion  of  wickedness,  Mr.  Savage.  The 
practices  of  drunkenness  and  gambling  ceased,  and  fear 
and  trembling  came  upon  the  most  vile  and  hardened  sin- 
ners, and  many  were  brought  to  realize  that  Christ  had 
power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins.  These  two  revivals,  like 
fires  in  a  prairie,  continued  spreading  till  they  met,  and 
the  reformation  was  truly  great  and  glorious.  One  of  the 
greatest,  if  not,  indeed,  the  greatest,  sources  of  wickedness 
and  misery  resulted  from  the  manufacture,  sale,  and  use 
of  intoxicating  liquor ;  and  the  evil,  lamentable  to  be  told, 
existed  in  the  Church  as  well  as  elsewhere.  Ardent  spir- 
its were  used  as  a  preventive  of  disease.  It  was  also 
regarded  as  a  necessary  beverage.  A  house  could  not  be 
raised,  a  field  of  wheat  cut  down,  nor  could  there  be  a  log 
rolling,  a  husking,  a  quilting,  a  wedding,  or  a  funeral 
without  the  aid  of  alcohol.  In  this  state  of  things  there 
was  great  laxity  on  the  subject  of  drinking,  and  the  min- 
isters as  well  as  the  members  of  some  denominations  im- 
bibed pretty  freely.  The  only  temperance  society  that 
then  existed,  and,  consequently,  the  only  standard  raised 
against  the  overflowing  scourge  of  intemperance,  was  the 
Methodist  Church.  The  General  Rules  of  the  society  pro- 
hibited the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  as  a  beverage,  and 


REV.    JAMES    fc.    FlNLLr.  249 

only  allowed  their  use  when  prescribed  as  a  medicine  by  a 
physician.  No  other  denomination  having  prohibited  the 
use  of  ardent  spirits  as  a  beverage,  it  followed,  as  a  nec- 
essary consequence,  that  all  persons  who  refused  to  drink 
were  called,  by  way  of  reproach,  Methodist  fanatics.  But 
few  came  out  publicly  against  this  monster  evil,  and  manu- 
facturers, venders,  and  users  were  out  against  the  Church. 
I  often  met  with  opposition  for  my  advocacy  of  the  cause 
of  temperance.  On  my  first  round  I  was  taken  into  a 
room  at  one  of  my  stopping-places,  where  there  was  a  ten 
gallon  keg.  I  asked  my  host,  who  was  said  to  be  a  pious 
inan,  what  the  keg  contained,  and  he  replied  that  it  was 
whisky,  and  that  he  had  procured  it  for  the  purpose  of 
raising  a  barn  with  it.  I  asked  him  if  he  did  not  know 
that  this  drink  was  the -worst  enemy  of  man,  and  that  it 
might  occasion  the  death  of  some  person,  and  be  the  cause 
of  a  great  deal  of  swearing,  and,  perhaps,  fighting.  I 
further  asked  him,  if  he  did  not  know  that  God  had  pro- 
nounced a  ourse  against  the  man  who  putteth  the  bottle 
to  his  neighbor's  mouth  and  maketh  him  drunken.  At 
this  he  became  excited  and  angrily  said,  "There  is  no  law 
against  using  whisky,  and  I'll  do  as  I  please." 

"Very  well,"  said  I,  "it  is  a  poor  rule  that  won't  work 
both  ways.  If  you  do  as  you  please,  I  will  do  as  I  please ; 
and  unless  you  take  that  keg  out  of  this  room  I  will  leave 
the  house,  for  I  would  rather  lie  out  in  the  woods  than  to 
sleep  in  a  Methodist  house  with  a  ten-gallon  keg  of  whisky 
for  my  room-mate."  I  furthermore  said,  "Now,  sir,  if 
any  thing  transpires  at  your  barn-raising  of  an  immoral 
nature,  through  the  use  of  that  infernal  stuff,  I  will  turn 
you  out  of  the  Church." 

He  refused  to  move  the  keg,  and  I  took  my  horse  and 
went  to  another  place.  At  my  appointment,  the  next  day, 
I  took  occasion  to  preach  against  the  use  of  ardent  spirits 
in  any  form,  except  prescribed  by  a  physiciai .     As  soon 


250  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

as  I  was  done,  an  old  exhorter  came  up  to  me  and  said, 
in  a  fierce  and  angry  tone,  "Young  man,  I  advise  you  to 
leave  the  circuit  and  go  home,  for  you  are  doing  more 
harm  than  good;  and  if  you  can't  preach  the  Gospel  and 
let  people's  private  business  alone,  they  do  not  want  you 
at  all." 

I  replied,  "I  will  not  go  home;  and  I  have  a  mission 
from  God  to  break  up  this  strong-hold  of  the  devil.  By 
his  help  I  will  do  it,  despite  of  all  distillers  and  aiders 
and  abettors  in  the  Church." 

Those  of  my  brethren  who  were  alive  to  God  stood  by 
me,  and  I  drew  the  sword  and  threw  away  the  scabbard, 
resolving  to  give  no  quarters  and  to  ask  no  quarters  in  this 
war  of  extermination.  An  old  and  respectable  Methodist, 
who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  taking  his  morning  dram 
for  years,  and  who  kept  his  bottle  locked  up  in  his  trunk, 
came  to  reprove  me,  stating  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
drinking,  and  had  been  so  for  years,  and  he  was  not  aware 
that  he  was  any  the  worse  for  it.  I  told  him  it  was  a 
great  mercy  that  he  had  not  become  a  drunkard,  for  I  had 
never  known  a  man  who  was  in  the  habit  of  drinking  reg 
ularly  that  did  not  become  a  drunkard.  He  said  that  he 
had  a  constant  headache,  and  was  obliged  to  use  stimu- 
lants for  it.  I  told  him  it  was  that  very  thing  which  gave 
him  the  headache ;  and  if  he  would  follow  my  advice  and 
quit  the  use  of  whisky  and  tea  till  I  came  round  again, 
which  would  be  four  weeks,  and  he  was  not  cured  of  head- 
ache; then  I  would  submit  to  his  using  such  stimulants. 

The  old  gentleman  made  a  pledge  and  kept  it,  and 
when  I  came  round,  before  I  arrived  at  the  house  he  came 
out  and  told  me  he  was  well,  having  had  no  pain  in  his 
head  for  the  last  two  weeks.  He  became  a  thorough-going 
temperance  man,  and  proved  a  valuable  auxiliary  to  the 
caus<: .  Encouraged  in  my  efforts  to  promote  the  cause  of 
temperance,  I  suffered  no  opportunity  to  pass  that  I  did 


HEV.    JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  25 1 

not  improve  in  portraying  the  physical,  social,  and  moral 
evils  resulting  from  intemperance.  I  dwelt  particularly 
upon  its  sad  and  ruinous  effects  in  a  religious  point  of 
view,  and  made  strong  appeals  to  the  religion  and  patriot- 
ism of  my  congregation.  Frequently  I  would  pledge 
whole  congregations,  standing  upon  their  feet,  to  the  tem- 
perance cause;  and  during  my  rounds  I  am  certain  the 
better  portion  of  the  entire  community  became  the  friends 
and  advocates  of  temperance,  and  on  this  circuit  alone,  at 
least  one  thousand  had  solemnly  taken  the  pledge  of  total 
abstinence.  This*  was  before  temperance  societies  were 
heard  of  in  this  country.  It  was  simply  the  carrying  oui 
of  the  Methodist  Discipline  on  the  subject.  My  efforts, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  awakened  the  ire  and  indignation 
of  the  makers  and  venders  of  the  ardent,  and  their  curses 
were  heaped  on  me  in  profusion.  They  would  gladly  have 
driven  me  from  the  country  if  they  could,  but  this  was 
beyond  their  power.  One  of  the  greatest  distillers  in  the 
land  said  I  was  worse  than  a  robber,  as  I  had  prevented 
him  from  selling  whisky  to  the  harvesters,  and  his  family 
was  likely  to  suffer.  The  craven-hearted  wretch  did  not 
think  of  the  broken-hearted  wives  and  bewared  children 
his  distillery  had  made.  This  distiller  had  a  field  of  grain 
to  cut,  and  he  invited  all  his  neighbors  to  help  him.  They 
came  at  the  appointed  time.  Before  the  company  com- 
menced reaping  he  offered  the  bottle  to  the  leader,  and 
then  to  all  the  rest,  but  no  one  touched,  tasted,  or  han- 
dled the  accursed  thing.  After  they  had  reaped  the  first 
through,  he  tried  them  all  again,  and  with  many  entreat- 
ies besought  them  to  drink,  but  they  still  persisted  in 
refusing.  At  this  he  became*  angry,  and  swore  that  they 
should  all  leave  the  field;  for  if  they  would  not  drink 
his  whisky  they  should  not  cut  his  grain.  They  paid  no 
attention  to  him,  but  went  on  reaping;  whereupon  he  or- 
dered them  out  of  his  field,  and  swore  he  would  prosecute 


252  AtrTOftlOGftAFHY    OF 

the  first  man  who  dared  to  trespass  by  cutting  anothet 
inch  of  his  grain.  Still  they  kept  on  reaping,  and  ae  went 
off  with  his  bottle,  swearing  vengeance.  His  friends  fin- 
ished the  field,  shocked  up  the  grain,  and  went  home. 
This  circumstance  gave  a  fatal  blow  to  whisky  in  thai 
neighborhood  at  that  time  and  for  years  afterward.  God 
at  last  caused  victory  to  turn  upon  the  side  of  temperance, 
and  the  Church  was  delivered  from  the  deadly  evil. 

This  year  a  camp  meeting  was  held  at  the  Rushvillo 
camp-ground.  At  this  meeting  we  were  blessed  with  the 
presence  of  both  of  our  beloved  Superintendents — Asbury 
and  M'Kendree.  A  row  was  raised,  on  Saturday,  by 
about  twenty  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort,  who  came 
upon  the  ground  intoxicated,  and  had  vowed  they  would 
break  up  the  meeting.  One  of  the  preachers  went  to  the 
leader  for  the  purpose  of  getting  him  to  leave,  but  this 
only  enraged  him,  and  he  struck  the  preacher  a  violent 
blow  on  the  face  and  knocked  him  down.  Here  the  con- 
flict began.  The  members  saw  that  they  must  either  de- 
fend themselves  or  allow  the  ruffians  to  beat  them  and 
insult  their  wives  and  daughters.  It  did  not  take  them 
long  to  decide.  They  very  soon  placed  themselves  in  an 
attitude  of  defense.  Brother  Birkhammer,  an  exceedingly 
stout  man,  seized  their  bully  leader,  who  had  struck  the 
preacher,  and  with  one  thrust  of  his  brawny  arm  crushed 
him  down  between  two  benches.  The  aiddecamp  of  the 
bully  ran  to  his  relief,  but  it  was  to  meet  the  same  fate ; 
for  no  sooner  did  he  come  in  reach  of  the  Methodist  than, 
with  crushing  force,  he  felt  himself  ground  on  the  back 
of  his  comrade,  in  distress.  Here  they  were  held  in 
durance  vile  till  the  sheriff  and  his  posse  came  and  took 
possession,  and  binding  them,  with  ten  others,  they  were 
carried  before  a  justice,  who  fined  them  heavily  for  the 
misdemeanor. 

As  soon  as  quiet  was  restored,  Bishop  Asbury  occupied 


HEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  253 

the  pulpit.  After  singing  and  prayer,  he  rose  and  said  he 
would  give  the  rowdies  some  advice.  "You  must  remem- 
ber that  all  our  brothers  in  the  Church  are  not  yet  sancti- 
fied, and  I  advise  you  to  let  them  alone ;  for  if  you  get 
them  angry  and  the  devil  should  get  in  them,  they  are  the 
strongest  and  hardest  men  to  fight  and  conquer  in  the 
world.  I  advise  you,  if  you  do  not  like  them,  to  go  home 
and  let  them  alone." 

The  work  of  the  Lord  commenced  at  this  point,  and 
meetings  were  kept  up  without  intermission  till  Tuesday 
morning.  Upward  of  one  hundred  were  converted  to 
God  and  joined  the  Church.  Many  more  gave  in  their 
aames,  and  they  were  handed  over  to  the  leaders,  to  be 
presented  to  the  next  preacher  who  should  come  upon  the 
circuit.  At  the  close  of  the  camp  meeting  we  left  for  con- 
ference, which  was  held  in  Chilicothe,  October  17,  1812. 

This  year  there  was  an  increase  in  the  membership  of 
the  western  conferences,  of  three  thousand,  three  hundred 
and  sixty-two  whites,  and  one  hundred  and  eighty-one 
colored — making  a  total  of  three  thousand,  five  hundred 
and  forty-three.  The  number  in  the  whole  connection 
amounted  to  ten  thousand,  seven  hundred  and  ninety. 
Twenty-three  preachers  were  admitted  on  trial  into  the 
traveling  connection. 

An  incident  occurred  at  this  conference  which  I  shall 
never  forget,  and  I  think  some  of  my  brethren  will  bear 
equally  lively  recollections.  Bishop  Asbury  said  to  the 
preachers,  "Brethren,  if  any  of  you  have  any  thing  pecu- 
liar in  your  circumstances  that  should  be  known  to  the 
Superintendent,  in  making  your  appointment,  if  you  will 
drop  me  a  note,  I  will,  as  far  as  will  be  compatible  with 
the  great  interests  of  the  Church,  endeavor  to  accommo- 
date you."  I  had  a  great  desire  to  go  west,  because  1 
had  relatives  which  called  me  in  that  direction,  and  it 
would  be  more  pleasant  to  be  with  them ;  so  I  sat  down 


V54  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

and  addressed  a  very  polite  note  to  the  Bishop,  requesting 
him  to  send  me  west. 

My  request,  however,  was  not  granted;  for  when  the 
appointments  were  read  out,  instead  of  hearing  my  name 
announced  in  connection  with  some  western  appointment, 
1  was  sent  one  hundred  miles  further  east.  To  this,  how- 
ever, I  responded  amen,  and  after  the  adjournment  of 
conference  I  said  to  the  Bishop,  "If  that  is  the  way  you 
answer  prayers,  I  think  you  will  get  no  more  prayers  from 
me."  "Well,"  said  he,  smiling  and  stroking  my  head, 
"be  a  good  son  in  the  Gospel,  James,  and  all  things  will 
work  together  for  good."  I  have  found  that  those  who 
are  the  most  in  the  habit  of  praying  for  appointments,  are 
those  who  are  generally  most  disappointed;  for  if  their 
prayers  were  answered,  it  would  be  against  the  prayers  of 
whole  Churches,  who  pray  to  be  delivered  from  them. 

At  the  General  conference,  which  was  held  in  May, 
1812,  the  old  Western  conference  was  divided  into  Ohio 
and  Tennessee,  and  parts  of  Kentucky  belonged  to  each 
conference.  It  was  the  last  time  that  many  hearts,  which 
were  united  as  David  and  Jonathan,  were  to  meet  in  con- 
ference together,  and  great  sorrow  was  felt  at  parting. 
When  the  hour  came  we  united  in  singing  the  hymn, 

"Blest  be  the  dear,  uniting  love, 

Which  will  not  let  us  part; 

Our  bodies  may  far  off  remove, 

We  still  are  one  in  heart." 

Then  taking  the  parting  hand,  we  took  a  hearty,  warm 
farewell,  inspired  with  hope  that  when  the  toils  of  life 
were  over,  we  should  meet  a^ain  in  the  communings  of 
that  better  world. 

The  name  of  my  circuit  was  West  Wheeling,  in  the 
Ohio  district.  Jacob  Young  was  appointed  presiding  elder 
of  the  district.  St.  Clairsville,  the  capital  of  Belmoni 
county,  was  the  center  and  metropolis  of  my  circuit.     The 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  855 

number  of  members  returned  was  four  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  ;  but  this  number  was  ascertained  on  the  principle  of 
guessing — a  Yankee  mode  of  computation  that  don't  ex- 
actly suit  western  mathematics.  The  careless  manner  by 
which  the  preacher  in  charge  too  frequently  arrives  at  the 
numbers  in  society,  can  rot  be  too  severely  censured.  My 
custom,  on  the  first  round,  was  to  get  all  the  class-books, 
and  in  the  presence  of  the  leaders  take  down  all  the  names 
in  my  memorandum,  kept  for  that  purpose,  and  when  any 
were  removed,  expelled,  or  had  died,  I  would  mark  my 
book  accordingly.  Thus,  without  recourse  to  the  class- 
books,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  I  could  tell  exactly  the 
numbers  in  society. 

I  removed  my  family  to  St.  Clairsville.  The  society 
here  had  many  pious  people  in  it,  though  some  were  in  a 
backslidden  state.  At  one  of  my  appointments  there  lived 
a  very  pious  sister,  who  had  been  raised  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic, but  had  been  converted  and  lived  in  the  enjoyment  of 
religion.  She  could  not  read  a  word,  and  had  never  seen 
a  Bible,  as  she  had  been  taught  it  was  an  extremely  dan- 
gerous book,  and  not  to  be  read  or  touched.  This  sincere, 
simple-hearted  woman  went  to  confession,  and,  as  she 
supposed,  received  the  pardon  of  her  sins  by  priestly  ab- 
solution. She  was  happy  in  the  belief  that  her  father 
confessor  would  open  to  her  the  gates  of  heaven;  that  as 
he  had  the  keys  of  St.  Peter  he  could  open  or  shut  hewen 
at  his  pleasure;  that  whosoever  he  blessed  was  blessed, 
and  whosoever  he  cursed  was  cursed.  This  poor  woman 
said  she  feared  the  priest  more  than  she  did  God.  Being 
called  at  one  time  to  mourn  the  loss  of  a  beloved  child, 
her  grief  became  extreme,  and  she  found  no  rest  day  or 
ni"-ht.  She  imagined  that  God  had  taken  her  child  as  a 
punishment  for  her  wickedness.  She  prayed  with  great 
earnestness  to  the  Virgin  Mary  and  other  saints.  She 
also  subjected  herself  to  the  severest  penance,  and  said 


256  AUTOBioGRArn  r  of 

over  hir  ave  Marias.  Her  dreadful  state  of  mind  con 
tinued,  so  that  she  neither  ate  nor  slept,  and  fears  were 
entertained  that  she  would  become  deranged.  *\t  length 
she  concluded  to  pray  to  God  to  help  her.  For  the  pur- 
pose of  praying  to  God  she  ascended  the  side  of  a  mount- 
ain, and  there,  far  from  human  vision,  she  fell  on  her 
knees  and  poured  out  her  heart  in  prayer  to  God.  Her 
language  was,  "0  God,  have  pity  on  a  wretch  like  me!" 
She  repeated  this  petition  for  some  time,  and  was  about  to 
abandon  herself  to  despair,  when  she  saw,  as  she  described 
it,  a  dark  and  heavy  cloud,  which  had  rested  upon  her, 
pass  away,  and  she  was  surrounded  with  a  glorious  light. 
All  her  distress  left  her,  and  the  anguish  of  her  heart  was 
turned  into  joy.  She  thought  she  must  die,  so  much  was 
she  burdened  with  excessive  happiness.  After  a  while 
she  returned  home  and  continued  happy  all  day  and  all 
night.  The  next  day,  while  sitting  at  her  wheel  spinning, 
Satan  tempted  her  and  darkness  again  surrounded  her. 
In  this  state  of  mind  she  fled  again  to  God  in  prayer,  and 
was  happily  delivered  from  the  snare  of  the  devil. 

Hearing  of  a  Methodist  meeting  in  the  neighborhood, 
she  went,  and  there,  for  the  first  time,  did  she  hear  the 
Gospel  preached  and  salvation  by  faith  in  Jesus  pro- 
claimed. Then  she  beheld  the  glory  of  God  as  it  shone 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  Soon  after  this  she  joined 
the  Church,  and  ever  after  remained  one  of  the  most  con- 
sistent and  happy  Christians.  She  was  poor,  in  regard  to 
things  of  this  world,  but  rich  in  faith  and  spiritual  enjoy- 
ments. Once  while  my  colleague  and  self  were  talking  in 
her  house  of  the  goodness  of  God  and  the  comforts  we 
enjoyed,  she  let  the  stick,  with  which  she  was  stirring  the 
mush,  fall  into  the  fire,  and  startled  us  with  a  loud  shout 
of  glory.  I  was  alarmed  at  this  sudden  outcry,  and  sup 
posed  sister  E.  was  scalded,  but  in  a  moment  I  understood 
all  perfectly  plain.     She  continued  praising  God  t'll  near 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  257 

midnight.  She  would  often  shout  on  her  horse,  letting 
go  the  reins  and  clapping  her  hands.  Once  she  attended 
a  popular  meeting  of  another  denomination.  The  rain 
obliged  all  persons  present  to  crowd  into  one  room.  The 
preacher  was  eloquent  in  discoursing  about  Jesus  and  his 
love,  in  dying  for  our  guilty  race.  As  his  heart  warmed 
with  the  theme,  sister  E.  caught  the  fire,  and  being  unable 
to  suppress  her  emotions,  she  shouted  aloud  the  praises 
of  God.  This  greatly  alarmed  the  preacher  and  disturbed 
the  whole  congregation,  and  the  old  lady  was  carried  out. 
A.s  it  was  still  raining  she  was  put  into  an  empty  corn- 
crib,  where  she  walked  about  shouting  and  singing — 

"No  changes  of  season  or  place, 
Would  make  any  change  in  my  mind ; 
For  prisons  would  palaces  prove, 
If  Jesus  would  dwell  with  me  there." 

In  this  neighborhood  the  Lord  commenced  a  great  and 
glorious  work,  and  many  souls  were  converted.  There 
were  also  revivals  at  G.  B.'s,  on  M'Mahon's  creek,  "at  A. 
Scott's,  on  Wheeling  creek,  on  Pipe  creek,  and  in  Dilley's 
Bottom.  At  all  these  places  there  were  many  manifest 
evidences  of  the  power  of  grace  in  renewing  the  heart. 

About  this  time  there  flourished  in  this  section  of  the 
country  a  halcyon  preacher  by  the  name  of  Abel  Sargent. 
He  formerly  resided  near  Morgantown,  Virginia,  and  was 
a  Universalis  preacher;  but  receiving  a  new  revelation, 
in  which  he  said  he  held  converse  with  angels,  and  he  was 
made  the  medium  of  communication  to  the  world.  His 
doctrines  did  not  differ  very  materially  from  the  Univcr- 
salist creed,  except  that  he  taught  the  annihilation  of  (he 
wicked.  The  regenerated  soul,  he  taught,  was  a  part  of 
God;  and  when  the  body  died  there  was  a  resorption  of 
the  soul  into  God.  He  did  not  believe  in  any  devil,  in  a 
place  of  future  torment,  nor  in  a  judgment.  He  went 
about  the  country  with  his  twelve  apostles,  mostly  women, 
17 


258  A  U  TOJJIOGEAPHT    OF 

preaching  and  pretending  to  raise  the  dead.  One  of  his 
followers,  in  the  bounds  of  my  circuit,  declared  that  he 
could  fast  lis  long  as  the  Savior  did — forty  days  and  forty 
nights.  This,  he  said,  he  was  enabled  to  do,  because 
the  divinity  was  in  him.  To  prove  it  he  commenced 
the  work  of  fasting,  and  persisted  in  abstaining  from  food 
for  sixteen  days,  when  he  died.  The  halcyon  declared 
that  he  would  resuscitate  himself  after  three  days,  and 
they  kept  his  body  till  decomposition  had  progressed  so 
far  that  they  were  compelled  to  bury  it  out  of  their  sight. 
This,  like  all  other  species  of  fanaticism  and  superstition, 
had  its  day  and  produced  some  excitement  on  the  circuit, 
but  nothing  that  resulted  very  disastrously  to  the  cause 
of  religion. 

This  year  the  war  spirit  unfortunately  entered  into 
many  professors  of  religion,  and  as  soon  as  they  caught  it 
they  began  to  lose  their  religion.  Many  that  once  walked 
with  us  to  the  house  of  God  and  took  delight  in  the  serv- 
ices of  religion,  now  marched  off  in  rank  and  file  to  be- 
come disciplined  in  the  arts  of  war.  Several,  who  had 
been  saved  from  drunkenness  by  the  Church,  returned  to 
their  evil  habits  as  "the  dog  returns  to  his  vomit,  and  the 
sow,  that  was  washed,  to  her  wallowing  in  the  mire." 
Wars  and  rumors  of  wars  are  peculiarly  fatal  to  the  mild 
and  peaceful  spirit  of  the  Gospel ;  and  when  the  Prince 
of  peace  shall  obtain  his  dominions,  "swords  shall  be 
beaten  into  plowshares  and  spears  into  pruning-hooks,  and 
nations  shall  learn  war  no  more." 

The  local  preachers  on  this  circuit  were  Vachel  Hall, 
James  Starr,  Amos  Sparks,  David  £f 'Masters,  and  Archi- 
bald M'Elroy.  One  of  these,  brother  M'Masters,  went 
off  in  the  Radical  secession,  though  he  was  a  good  man. 
Like  many  others,  he  was  led  astray  by  designing  men. 
lie  died  soon  after  joining  the  Radical  Church,  and  has, 
no  doubt,  entered  into  rest.     Brother  M'Elroy  entered  the 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  259 

traveling  connection.  He  was  an  Irishman,  and  came  tc 
this  country  at  an  early  day.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
zealous  and  devoted  in  all  the  itinerant  ranks.  He  seemed 
to  have  had  a  peculiar  aversion  to  Calvinism,  and  scarcelv 
ever  failed,  in  his  discourses,  to  present  some  of  its  most 
odious  features  to  the  attention  of  his  audience.  He 
would  denounce  the  heaviest  terrors  of  the  law  upon  the 
doomed  head  of  the  sinner,  and  was  regarded,  in  his  day, 
as  one  of,  Sinai's  thunderers.  He  was  a  faithful  and  effi- 
cient Methodist  preacher,  and  died  in  his  work. 

One  of  the  best  class-leaders  I  ever  saw,  lived  on  this 
circuit.  His  name  was  M'Coy.  Classes  too  frequently 
lead  the  leader;  not  so,  however,  with  M'Coy's;  he  al- 
ways led  and  governed  his  class.  M'Coy  was  converted 
in  Ireland,  under  the  labors  of  Wesley,  when  but  a  boy. 
His  master,  to  whom  he  was  apprenticed,  being  a  Roman 
Catholic,  would  lock  him  out  at  night  while  absent  at 
class  meeting.  Ofien  has  he  slept  all  night  in  the  cow- 
house. I  never  met  with  a  man  in  all  my  life  who  was  so 
deeply  experienced  in  the  things  of  God,  and  he  had  the 
only  methodized  class  that  ever  I  became  acquainted  with. 
He  would  take  no  frivolous  excuse  for  neglect  of  class, 
and  there  were  no  gaddings  about  on  Sabbath  among  his 
members;  no  going  to  soirees  of  fashion  and  pleasure 
He  allowed  no  family  to  live  without  prayer.  No  one  who 
neglected  the  communion,  or  indulged  in  the  use  of  intox- 
icating drinks,  could  remain  in  his  class  without  reforma- 
tion. All  the  rules  of  Discipline  were  carried  out  in  his 
class. j  No  steward  or  preacher  was  allowed  to  say  a  word 
to  his  class  on  the  subject  of  money.  All  the  steward 
had  to  do  was  to  let  him  know  how  much  his  class  had  to 
pay,  and  at  the  quarterly  meeting  it  was  promptly  handed 
over  to  the  board.  None  in  the  class  were  allowed  tc  say, 
"I  am  too  poor  to  pay  any  thing.*'  On  one  occasion,  as  1 
»as  passing  along,  I  overtook  Jane  Craig,  a  poor  old  Irish 


260  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

woman,  who  was  on  her  way  to  town  to  sell  some  sewing 
thread.  I  said  to  her,  "Aunt  Jane,  where  are  you  going 
on  foot?" 

"Going  to  sell  this  thread  to  get  quarterage. " 
"But  you  are  too  poor  and  too  old  to  pay  quarterage." 
"Bless  God  for  poverty.  I  have  none  of  the  world, 
and  there  is  nothing  to  take  my  mind  off  of  Jesus,  my 
blessed  Savior.  I  should  feel  very  unhappy  and  ungrate- 
ful if  I  did  not  give  something  to  help  on  the  cause  of  my 
blessed  Master.  My  good  leader  tells  us  that  without 
faith  it  is  impossible  to  be  saved,  and  this  faith  must  be 
active  and  fruitful ;  for  a  dead  faith  is  worth  nothing 
either  for  time  or  eternity,  and  in  the  day  of  judgment 
our  faith  will  be  proven  by  its  fruits.  The  happiest  day  1 
have,  is  when  I  am  trying  to  earn  something  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  Gospel. "  She  would  not  receive  her  quarter- 
age as  a  gift  from  another,  but  resolved  that  it  should  be 
the  product  of  her  own  hands.  The  conduct  of  this  wo- 
man ought  to  shame  many  members  of  the  Church.  She 
did  not  belong  to  that  class  of  Methodists  who  thank  God 
that  their  religion  costs  them  nothing. 

This  was  a  year  of  great  spiritual  benefit  to  me.  Our 
quarterly  meetings  were  occasions  of  great  power,  and 
multitudes  of  all  denominations,  sects,  and  conditions 
would  come  out  to  preaching.  Once  at  a  meeting  of  this 
description,  when  the  house  was  crowded  and  the  power 
uf  God  was  divinely  manifested,  I  was  called  on  by  brother 
Young  to  exhort.  Being  much  blessed,  I  suppose  I  raised 
my  voice  to  its  highest  pitch  and  struck  the  book-board 
with  my  hand.  At  this  a  young  lawyer — Charles  Ham- 
mond— who  had  a  considerable  reputation  for  talents,  be- 
came alarmed,  and,  urging  his  way  through  the  crowd  to 
the  door,  fled  for  his  life. .  On  my  next  round  the  sexton 
found  in  the  pulpit  a  very  neatly-turned  maul  with  a  slip 
uf  paoer  wrapped  around  the  handle,  which  was  directed 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY/.  2H 

to  mc ,     After  meeting  it  was  presented,  and  on  the  papei 
were  the  following  verses : 

"Thus  saith  the  Lord,  the  preacher  now 
Must  warn  the  people  all,    • 
And  if  you  can  not  make  them  hear, 
I'd  have  you  use  this  maul. 

Your  hand,  dear  sir,  is  far  too  soft 

To  hatter  on  the  wood ; 
Just  take  this  maul,  it  is  but  small, 
*  And  thunder  on  the  board. 

Lift  up  your  voice  and  loudly  call 

On  sinners  all  around, 
And  if  you  can  not  make  them  hear, 

Take  up  this  maul  and  pound." 


262  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ITINERANT    LIFE    CONTINUED. 

Ar  the  conference  held  at  Steubenville,  September  1, 
1813,  Barnesville  and  West  Wheeling  circuits  were  united. 
I  had  for  my  colleague  the  aged  and  venerable  minister, 
Michael  Ellis.  It  was  a  full  six  weeks'  circuit;  and,  as 
father  Ellis  lived  in  the  bounds  of  the  West  Wheeling  part 
of  the  circuit,  I  removed  my  family  to  Barnesville.  This 
end  of  the  circuit  was  new ;  and  that  part  of  it  which  lay 
between  Barnesville  and  Marietta  was  a  wilderness  with- 
out roads,  settled  principally  by  hunters.  I  took  this  part 
of  the  work,  as  I  considered  it  too  hard  for  my  colleague. 
During  the  year  we  had  revivals  in  many  places,  and 
were  much  encouraged  to  labor  in  the  vineyard  of  the 
Lord.  The  local  brethren  were  at  their  posts,  filling  the 
Sabbath  appointments,  and  assisting  at  our  revivals  like 
men  of  God  baptized  for  the  work. 

An  incident  occurred  on  one  of  my  excursions  in  the 
wilderness  part  of  my  circuit,  which  I  will  relate.  I  was 
traveling  along  a  solitary  path  through  the  woods,  and  all 
at  once  I  came  upon  an  old  man  of  the  most  giotesque 
appearance,  trudging  along  at  a  slow  rate,  half  bent,  with 
an  ax  and  two  broomsticks  on  his  shoulder.  As  I  ap- 
proached him  I  said,  "Well,  grandfather,  how  do  you 
do?" 

He  was  a  German,  and  replied,  "It  ish  wall." 

"You  have  too  much  of  a  load  to  carry." 

"Yes,  but  I  can  go  not  often." 

"Where  do  you  live,  old  friend?" 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  263 

"Shust  dare,"  pointing  to  a  small  cabin  on  the  hill-side. 

''You  seem  to  be  poor,  as  well  as  old." 

"0  yes,  in  dis  vorld  I  has  noting;  but  in  de  oder  vorld 
i  has  a  kingdom." 

"Do  you  knew  any  thing  about  that  kingdom?" 

"0  yes." 

"Do  you  love  God?" 

"Yes,  mid  all  ray  heart,  and  God  love  me."  v 

"How  long  a  time  have  you  been  loving  God?" 

"Dis  fifty  years." 

"Do  you  belong  to  any  Church?" 

"0  yes,  I  bese  a  Metodist." 

"Where  did  you  join  the  Methodists?" 

"I  jine  de  Metodist  in  Maryland,  under -dat  grate  man 
of  Got,  Strawbridge,  on  Pipe  creek,  and  my  vife  too; 
and  Got  has  been  my  father  and  my  friend  ever  since ; 
and  I  bless  Got  I  will  soon  get  home  to  see  him  in  de  him- 
els." 

By  this  time  I  felt  my  heart  burn  within  me ;  and,  hav- 
ing arrived  at  the  Bethel,  I  stopped,  and  went  in.  His 
wife,  who  was  also  quite  aged,  was  sitting  by  her  wheei, 
spinning  tow.  I  told  them  I  was  a  Methodist  preacher, 
and  was  more  than  happy  to  meet  with  them.  There  was 
but  one.  little  chair  in  the  cabin;  but,  though  destitute  of 
furniture,  every  thing  I  saw  looked  neat  and  clean.  I 
inquired  into  their  history,  and  learned  that  they  once 
owned  property  in  Maryland ;  but  they  sold  it,  and  came 
out  west,  for  the  purpose  of  benefiting  their  son.  They 
bought  a  tract  of  land  containing  fifty  acres,  and  im- 
proved it  so  they  could  live  comfortably.  In  the  mean 
time  their  son  grew  up,  and  became  restless  and  uneasy ; 
wished  to  leave  home,  and  make  his  fortune  elsewdiere. 
To  quiet  him  the  old  people  made  him  a  title  to  the  farm, 
and  took  his  obligations  to  maintain  them  as  long  as  they 
lived.     In  a  short  time,  however,  the  unnatural  son  sold 


'264  AUT0B10GKAPHY    OF 

the  land,  took  the  money,  and  left  for  the  we&t;  since 
which  time  they  have  never  heard  of  him.  Being  obliged 
to  leave  their  home,  they  went  into  the  woods,  built  their 
little  cabin  0.1  Congress  land,  and  obtained  a  livelihood 
ay  making  brooms  and  baskets.  They  had  a~i  old  Bible, 
well-worn,  and  a  hymn-book,  which  bore  similar  marks  of 
use  Here,  in  this  cabin  alone,  they  held  their  meetings; 
class  meeting  on  the  Sabbath,  and  prayer  meetings  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night.  They  had  rich  enjoyment.  They 
talked  about  religion,  as  if  they  had  been  the  inhabitants 
of  the  heavenly  Canaan.  We  sang  and  prayed  together; 
and  such  a  meeting  I  had  not  enjoyed  for  years.  I  real- 
ized, in  my  very  heart,  that  I  would  not  have  exchanged 
their  lonely  little  cabin  for  the  most  sumptuous  palace  on 
earth,  without  God.  It  was  distressing  to  look  at  their 
apparel,  and  yet  their  faces  were  radiant  in  the  midst  of 
their  rags.  I  took  down  my  saddle-bags,  and  gave  the 
old  seivant  of  God  all  the  wardrobe  I  had  with  me,  and 
then,  with  many  blessings,  bade  these  happy  saints  adieu. 
When  I  arrived  home  I  reported  the  case  to  the  brethren 
and  sisters  of  Barnesville,  and  they  went  to  work,  and 
made  up  two  horse-loads  of  clothing,  meal,  and  meat, 
and  dispatched  it  to  them.  0  what  a  lesson  I  learned 
from  this  Simeon  and  Anna !  their  humility,  patience, 
entire  and  happy  resignation  to  the  providence  of  Godl 
Thus  they  lived  happy  in  God  while  they  lived;  and 
after  a  few  years,  they  went  rejoicing  home  to  heaven. 

On  this  circuit  there  lived  a  man  by  the  name  of  D., 
whc  had  led  the  daring  and  adventurous  life  of  a  back- 
woods hunter  without  God,  and  consequently  without 
hope  in  the  world.  He  was  drafted,  in  the  war  of  1812, 
to  go  on  a  tour  of  duty  at  a  block-house  on  one  of  our 
western  stations.  This  was  a  frontier  station,  and  Indians 
were  all  around  them.  One  morning  he  arose,  and,  with 
some  of  his  companions  in  arms,  he  cautiously  opened  the 


REV.   JAMES    B.    PINLEY.  265 

door,  and  they  went  down  to  a  spring  for  the  purpose  of 
performing  their  morning  ablutions.  Just  as  they  arrived 
at  the  spring  they  were  fired  upon  by  Indians,  and  two 
of  their  number  fell  dead  in  their  tracks.-  D.  wheeled 
instantly,  and  saw  the  Indians  rushing  from  their  covert 
to  intercept  the  path,  and  cut  off  retreat  to  the  block- 
house. At  the  same  time  he  saw  two  Indians  draw  up 
their  guns  to  shoot  him.  His  only  hope  of  life  consisted 
in  running  to  the  block-house,  and  instantly  he  sped  with 
the  most  desperate  fleetness;'  He  reached  the  door,  and 
threw  himself  his  whole  length  into  it,  to  escape,  if  pos- 
sible, the  balls  of  the  enemy.  Just  as  he  fell,  they  fired, 
and  one  of  the  balls  passed  through  his  leg.  Those  in 
the  house  caught  him,  and  pulled  him  in,  shutting  the 
door  with  much  difficulty  before  the  Indians  arrived. 
The  battle  now  began ;  but,  as  there  were  four  or  five  In- 
dians to  one  white  man,  it  was  necessary  to  use  great  pre- 
caution. They  were  well  protected,  as  the  house  was 
closely  notched  down,  and  well  chincked.  Several  In- 
dians were  shot  through  the  port-holes.  During  the  bat- 
tle D.  lay  wounded  and  bleeding  near  the  wall  While 
there  he  saw  an  Indian  trying  to  push  in  the  chincking 
with  the  muzzle  of  his  gun,  so  that  he  might  shoot  him ; 
but  he  placed  his  well  foot  against  it,  and  kept  it  in  its 
llace.  At  that  moment  he  sawT  how  near  he  was  to  eter- 
nity, and  then  rushed  upon  him,  like  a  mountain  torrent, 
his  sins.  While  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  his  guilt 
he  saw  also  the  goodness  of  God,  in  preserving  his  life  in 
the  terrible  events  of  that  day.  While  he  lay  there  he 
vowed  to  God,  if  he  would  spare  him  he  would  renounce 
all  his  sins,  and  lead  a  religious  life  the  remainder  of  his 
days.  This  promise  he  kept  faithfully ;  for,  after  return- 
ing home,  he  joined  the  Church,  obtained  religion,  and 
ever  afterward  lived  a  consistent  and  useful  life. 

During  this  year  there  was  a  great  revival  of  religion 


266  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    CF 

on  Duck  creek.  The  people  were  poor,  but  contented 
and  happy,  and  enjoyed  religion  in  all  its  simplicity  and 
power.  Men  in  the  winter  came  to  meeting  with  then 
moccasins  and  hunting-shirts,  and  women  with  their  lin- 
sey-woolsey gowns,  and  bareheaded;  and  in  summer, 
barefooted.     0  how  they  could  pray,  and  sing,  and  shout ! 

Early  in  the  spring  my  colleague  resolved  on  visiting 
this  part  of  the  work,  and  having  obtained  a  guide  1 
yielded  to  his  wishes.  In  the  morning  we  took  breakfast 
together,  and  I  said  to  him,  "Father  Ellis,  you  had  better 
eat  hearty,  for  you  are  going  into  a  wilderness,  where  your 
fare  will  be  backwoods  indeed,  perhaps  coons  or  opos- 
sums." "My  dear  brother,"  said  he,  "I  can  not  eat 
dogs  or  cats."  The  first  house  he  arrived  at  was  brother 
Dye's,  who  had,  that  morning,  killed  a  bear  and  two  cubs. 
As  they  were  lying  in  the  yard,  father  Ellis  walked 
around  them,  and  dryly  said,  "They  have  the  very  foot  of 
a  negro,  and  the  tusks  of  a  dog."  The  old  gentleman 
had  a  gracious  meeting  with  the  brethren  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  and  when  he  returned,  he  said  they  were  the  happi- 
est and  most  simple-hearted  people  he  had  ever  seen. 

The  year  was  one  of  great  prosperity.  Multitudes 
were  taken  into  the  Church.  Notwithstanding  the  pros- 
perity on  some  of  the  circuits,  there  was  only  an  increase, 
in  the  district,  of  about  two  hundred;  and  in  the  whole 
connection  the  increase  was  only  thirty-six.  The  previous 
year  there  had  been  a  decrease  of  three  thousand.  Thia 
great  decrease  in  the  membership  was  attributed  to  the 
war.  This  excitement,  all-pervading  and  demoralizing  as 
it  was,  operated  disastrously  to  religion.  Nor  could  it  be 
otherwise.  A  spirit  so  directly  averse  to  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel — which  breathes  peace  on  earth,  and  good- will  to 
man — if  allowed  to  take  possession  of  the  Church,  would 
eat  out  all  godliness. 

A  camp  meeting  was  held  this  year,  near  to  the  plac* 


EEV.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  2C7 

irhore  Fairview  now  stands.  At  this  meeting  many  were 
converted.  On  Sabbath  afternoon  it  seemed  as  if  the 
windows  of  heaven  were  opened,  and  there  was  a  revival 
of  pentecostal  times.  The  shouts  of  saints  and  the  cries 
of  sinners  were  mingled  together,  and  went  up  to  heaven 
Here  we  had  our  trials  and  conflicts,  as  well  as  our  tri- 
umphs. A  son  of  Belial  and  a  few  of  his  associates, 
instigated  by  Satan,  went  into  the  pulpit,  and  commenced 
abusing  the  preachers  and  members.  They  were  invited 
down  by  one  of  the  preachers,  whereupon  the  leader  drew 
a  pistol,  and  aimed  it  at  him,  and  was  about  firing,  when 
a  friend,  who  was  standing  close  by,  suddenly  threw  open 
the  pan  of  the  lock,  and  then,  seizing  the  bully  by  the 
shirt-collar,  threw  him  on  his  back,  and  dragged  him, 
reluctantly,  into  the  preacher's  tent,  where  he  was  dis- 
armed, and  a  magistrate  sent  for.  The  party,  seeing  how 
it  fared  with  their  leader,  were  suddenly  taken  with  a 
leaving;  and  when  the  prisoner  called  upon  his  faithless 
allies,  to  go  his  security,  they  were  all  missing.  At  this 
he  commenced  weeping,  and  praying,  and  pleading.  He 
said,  if  it  were  himself  only  that  was  to  suffer,  he  would 
not  care.  "But  that  it  should  break  my  mother's  heart, 
is  more  than  I  can  stand.  Pity  my  poor  mother,  for 
God's  sake,"  said  he.  On  condition  that  he  would  never 
disturb  a  congregation  again,  he  was  released,  and  soon 
he  left  the  encampment;  and  there  were  no  more  disturb- 
ances after  that.  Father  Ellis  and  myself  closed  our 
labors  on  this  circuit,  writh  the  consoling  reflection  that  we 
had  not  labored  in  vain;  but  that  souls  had  been  con- 
verted, and  the  borders  of  Zion  enlarged.  We  were  also 
comforted  in  the  assurance  that  the  Church  had  grown  in 
grace  and  spiritual  knowledge.  We  wTound  up  our  circuit 
abors,  made  the  necessary  preparation,  and  started  for 
conference,  which  was  to  be  held  in  Cincinnati,  September 
8,  1814. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

This  year  I  was  appointed  to  Cross  Creek  circuit,  taA 
had  for  my  colleague  the  Rev.  Archibald  M'Elroy,  01 
whom  I  have  already  spoken.  Our  circuit  included  the 
towns  of  Steubenville,  Cadiz,  Mount  Pleasant,  Smithfield. 
and  several  other  villages,  embracing  all  the  country  in 
Jefferson,  part  of  Harrison,  and  Belmont  counties.  It 
took  four  full  weeks  to  travel  round  it,  with  an  appoint- 
ment for  every  day  and  two  for  the  Sabbath.  The  mem- 
bership was  large,  amounting  to  nearly  one  thousand. 
We  had  to  preach  thirty- two  times  every  round,  and  meet 
fifty  classes.  Thus,  it  will  be  seen  that  we  had  no  time 
for  "visits,  modes,  and  forms,"  to  attend  parties  of  pleas- 
ure, loaf  around  stores,  offices,  and  shops,  read  newspa- 
pers and  chat  about  farms,  horses,  hogs,  and  cattle,  or  the 
politics  and  the  various  speculations  of  the  day.  My  col- 
league was  a  stout-built,  hale,  and  hearty  Irishman,  of 
fine  native  talents,  a  zealous  and  fearless,  outspoken  Chris- 
tian minister.  He  was  frank  in  his  manners,  blunt  and 
honest  in  all  his  demeanor.  He  called  things  by  theii 
proper  names,  was  shrewd  in  argument,  and  always  ready 
to  make  war  on  the  enemy  in  every  shape.  We  met  soon 
after  conference  and  arranged  our  work,  resolving  to  enter 
upon  it,  trusting  in  Him  who  hath  said,  "Lo,  I  am  with 
you  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world."  At  our 
first  quarterly  meeting,  at  which  brother  Young  was  pres- 
ent, we  had  a  refreshing  time  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord.  The  meeting  closed  on  Monday,  and  all  went  home 
under  the  injunctions  of  a  solemn  covenant  to  live  and 
labor  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  I  met  all  the  classes, 
made  new  papers,  changed  negligent  and  unprofitable 
leaders,  appointed  prayer  meetings,  waked  up  the  local 
preachers  and  exhorters,  and  started  every  thing  to  work. 
As  might  be  expected,  the  hit  birds  began  to  flutter,  and 
there  was  a  considerable  of  religious  gossip  among  a  cer- 
tain class.     Some  scolded,  others  cried  tyranny,  oppres- 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY. 


269 


sion,  etc.  Brother  M'Elroy  joined  heartily  with  me,  and 
all  the  pious  members  were  cheered  at  the  prospect  of  a 
return  to  discipline  again.  The  next  round  the  leaders' 
meetings  were  held  and  the  delinquents  reported,  and  vis- 
ited, and  by  our  next  quarterly  meeting  things  put  on 
quite  an  encouraging  aspect.  Revivals  had  broken  out  in 
many  places,  and  the  work  of  the  Lord  went  on  glori- 
ously. This  waked  up  opposition,  and  the  heavy  but 
sluggish  artillery  of  Calvinism  was  brought. to  bear  upon 
our  rp,nks.  I  gave  my  colleague  charge  of  this  wing  of 
the  opposition.  I  was  present,  on  one  occasion,  when  one 
of  the  Calvinist  ministers  attacked  mv  colleague.  He  was 
an  Irishman,  and  hence,  in  that  respect,  Greek  met  Greek 
The  point  of  debate  was  in  regard  to  the  secret  and  re- 
vealed will  of  God.  M'Elroy  contended  that  if  God  had 
a  secret  will,  from  the  very  nececsity  of  the  case  we  must 
be  ignorant  of  it ;  for  if  we  knew  it,  it  would  be  no  longer 
secret.  He  also  denied  that  the  Bible  taught  such  a  doc- 
trine.  The  Calvinist  replied,  "Your  sophistry  must  give 
way  to  matter  of  fact."  The  matter  of  fact  to  which  he 
referred,  was  the  case  of  Abraham.  God  had  com- 
manded him  to  offer  up  his  son  Isaac,  and  the  revealed 
will  of  God  was  evidently  that  Isaac  should  be  slain  as  a 
sacrifice,  but  the  secret  will  of  God  was  of  an  entirely  op- 
posite character.  "Now,"  said  the  Calvinist,  with  an  air 
of  pride  and  conscious  triumph  over  his  antagonist,  "your 
system  of  error  falls  to  the  ground."  The  Methodist  re- 
joined, "I  am  sorry,  for  your  sake,  though  not  for  the 
truth's  sake,  that  your  matter  of  fact  turns  out  to  be  mat- 
ter of  fiction.  Had  you  paid  half  as  much  attention  to 
the  Bible  as  you  have  to  the  Assembly's  Catechism,  you 
would  not  have  assumed  that  to  be  a  matter  of  fact, 
which  has  in  reality  no  existence.  You  say  that  only  a 
r>art  of  the  Divine  procedure,  in  the  case  of  Abraham, 
was  revealed,  and  that  related  to  the  peremptory  com- 


270  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

mand  to  slay  hi*  son.  But  what  are  the  facts?  God  com- 
manded Abraham  to  slay  his  son.  While  in  the  act  of 
obeying,  another  command  is  given  entirely  reversing  the 
former.  Neither  of  these  purposes  of  God  were  secret, 
inasmuch  as  they  were  both  revealed." 

Many  interesting  incidents  are  connected  with  the  life 
of  this  eccentric  minister. 

The  new  meeting-house  in  Steubenville  had  been  left 
in  an  unfinished  condition,  and  it  was  put  under  contract 
and  soon  completed.  At  the  dedication,  a  gentleman  of 
the  town,  with  eleven  others,  presented  a  very  handsome 
copy  of  the  Bible  for  the  use  of  the  pulpit,  with  a  request 
that  a  sermon  should  be  preached  from  Revelation  xxii, 
21.  Their  request  was  complied  with,  and  it  pleased  God 
to  pour  out  his  Spirit  in  a  wonderful  manner.  Eleven  out 
of  the  twelve  who  gave  the  Bible,  were  converted  to  God 
and  joined  the  Church.  This  work  spread  till  the  whole 
town  was  under  its  influence.  I  procured  a  local  brother 
to  fill  my  appointments,  and  remained  with  my  colleague 
for  some  time.  Our  meetings  continued  day  and  night. 
One  morning,  before  breakfast,  I  was  sent  for  to  pray  with 
eight  families,  many  of  whom  I  found  lying  on  the  floor 
crying  for  mercy.  ■  The  influence  of  this  revival  extended 
to  other  Churches,  and  many  were  brought  from  darkness 
to  light,  and  from  the  bondage  of  Satan  to  the  liberty  of 
the  children  of  God.  One  hundred  and  thirty  joined  on 
probation.  The  revival  flame  spread,  and  at  many  other 
appointments  on  the  circuit  there  were  manifest  displays 
of  Divine  power  in  awakening  and  conversion.  It  was 
not  long  till  all  the  waste  places  of  Zion  were  restored, 
and  the  Church  became  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

In  the  town  of  Smithfield  there  was  no  society  of  Meth  • 
odists.  It  was  settled  principally  by  Quakers  ;  and  though 
there  were  many  good  people  in  it,  yet  there  were  many 
very  wicked.     My  colleague  and  I  met  here  every   two 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLET.  27) 

weeks,  and  we  resolved  on  preaching  here.  A  gentleman 
:\v  the  name  of  S.  gave  us  the  use  of  his  house  as  a  place 
of  worship,  and  it  was  not  long  till  he  who  opened  his 
door  for  the  worship  of  God,  received  the  blessing  of  God 
in  Ids  heart.  The  Lord  revived  his  work  here,  and  in  a 
short  time  we  had  a  society  of  seventy  members ;  and  so 
large  were  our  congregations,  that  the  place  was  much 
too  small  for  us.  I  divided  the  circuit  between  my  col- 
league and  self  for  the  purpose  of  reading  the  Rules, 
which  we  did  once  a  quarter.  While  brother  M'Elroy 
was  reading  the  Rules  at  a  certain  place,  called  Irish 
Ridge,  where  his  congregation  was  mostly  composed  of 
his  own  countrymen,  he  took  occasion  to  contrast  their 
condition  with  what  it  was  in  the  mother  country.  Said 
he,  "You  Irishmen  remind  me  much  of  the  Israelites 
when  they  were  in  Egypt.  They  had  taskmasters,  and 
were  obliged  to  make  their  tale  of  brick,  finding  their  own 
straw.  When  you  were  in  Ireland  your  taskmasters  took 
ali  your  living  and  only  left  you  a  few  potatoes  to  eat,  and 
these  ye  often  salted  with  your  tears;  but  God  has  opened 
up  a  way  for  you  across  the  briny  deep,  and  brought  you 
and  your  wives  and  children  into  a  land  which  flows  with 
milk  and  honey,  and  ye  have  good  homes,  while  your  din- 
ners now  every  day  are  better  than  your  best  wedding 
dinners  in  the  old  country.  Ye  have  grown  fat,  and  your 
eyes  stick  out  like  Jeshurun's.  When  ye  cross  the  fence 
with  your  sickles  to  reap  down  the  golden  harvests,  instead 
of  reaping  the  sheaf  and  bringing  it  as  a  wave-offering  to 
the  Lord,  you  must  have  your  bottle  of  whisky,  and  cry 
out,  'Come,  boys,  we'll  all  jist  take  a  dram.  Sure  an'  it'll 
nurt  no  body,'  and  in  an  hour  or  two  ye  are  all  half-seas 
over."  This  lecture  so  offended  many  of  his  countrymen 
that  they  protested  against  being  so  abused,  and  mani- 
fesled  a  great  deal  of  feeling  against  their  preacher, 
«o  much  so  that  they  were  ill  at  ease  under  the  reproof. 


272  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Their  "Irish"  had  got  up  so  high  that  M'Elroy  wrote  me 
the  following  letter: 

"Dear  Brother, — Woe  is  me,  for  my  mother  brought 
forth  a  man  of  strife.  My  hand  is  against  every  man, 
tind  every  man's  hand  is  against  me.  I  have  pulled  the 
l.ottom  out  of  the  hornet's  nest  at  L.'s  meeting-house,  and 
if  you  don't  come  and  cooper  it  in  no  one  knows  where 
Lhey  will  swarm  to." 

After  all  our  increase  this  year,  we  returned  but  sixty- 
seven  more  than  the  preceding  year.  This,  however,  was 
to  be  accounted  for  by  the  numbers  that  were  laid  aside 
for  breach  of  rules,  and  others  who  fell  away  under  the 
influence  of  the  mania  that  prevailed  in  regard  to  banks 
and  speculations  in  real  estate.  The  Church  was,  how- 
ever, in  a  healthy  state,  and  prepared  to  take  care  of 
those  who  had  been  taken  into  her  fold  and  placed  under 
her  watch-care.  To  me  it  was  a  pleasant  and  profitable 
year.  One  of  the  young  men  who  joined  the  Church  be- 
came a  traveling  preacher.  Two  others  were  called,  I 
have  no  doubt,  to  the  same  work,  but  they  heeded  it  not; 
turned  away  and  went  back — became  poor,  dissipated, 
■  trifling  men.  I.  C.  Hunter  was  faithful  to  his  calling.  He 
gave  himself  up  wholly  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  In 
youthful  zeal  he  preached  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  like  a 
valiant  soldier,  he  died  with  his  harness  on.  Brother 
Hunter  was  one  of  the  most  honest,  fearless,  and  inde 
pendent  men  I  ever  knew.  He  was  a  sinceie  and  unfail- 
ing friend,  prompt  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty,  and 
ready  to  fill  any  post  assigned  him  by  the  Church.  He 
was  for  many  years  presiding  elder,  and  sustained  thai 
relation  to  the  Church  when  attacked  with  his  last  sick- 
ness. In  the  town  of  Gallipolis,  where  he  resided,  he  was 
cailed  to  pass  through  the  dark  valley,  but  he  was  calm 
collected,  and  fearless.  Trusting  alone  in  the  merits  c, 
Jesus,  he  entered  the  valley  and  was  lost  to  earth,  l-j 


JiEV.    JAMES    IJ.    FINLEY.  273 

found  in  heaven.  His  body  lies  in  a  quiet,  peaceful  rural 
cemetery,  near  the  town  of  Burlington,  on  the  Ohio  river. 
There,  undisturbed,  may  his  ashes  rest  till  the  archangel 
shall  wake  them  into  that  new  and  beautiful  form  which 
the  saints  shall  have  at  the  resurrection ! 

Many  who  resided  on  this  circuit  have  long  since  fin- 
ished their  course  and  entered  into  the  rest  that  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God.  The  society  in  Steubenville  was 
characterized  for  zeal  and  consistency,  but,  unfortunately, 
strong  as  the  fold  was  it  was  broken  down,  and  many  of 
the  influential  members  went  off  with  the  Radicals.  This 
unhappy  state  of  things  was  brought  about  by  the  very 
shepherds  who  were  placed  over  the  fold.  They  rent  the 
Church  and  had  not  the  courage  and  consistency  to  go 
with  the  straying.  There  was,  however,  a  remnant  left, 
and  in  the  course  of  several  years  the  Church  regained, 
in  a  good  degree,  what  she  had  lost. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention — chronicling,  as  I  am  en- 
deavoring to  do,  the  times — the  almost  universal  spirit  of 
speculation  which  prevailed,  and  to  which  I  have  already 
alluded.  A  money  mania  seemed  to  have  seized,  like  an 
epidemic,  the  entire  people.  Every  body  went  to  banking. 
Within  the  bounds  of  our  circuit  there  were  no  less  than 
nine  banking  establishments,  seven  of  them  within  the 
county  of  Jefferson,  and  one  of  them  said  to  have  been 
kept  in  a  lady's  chest.  All  these  were  engaged  in  issuing 
paper,  while  every  incorporated  town,  village,  or  company 
went  to  work  to  issuing  notes.  But  it  did  not  stop  here. 
Tavern-keepers,  merchants,  butchers,  bakers— every  body 
seemed  to  have  become  bankers.  This  fever  not  only 
raged  in  this  vicinity,  but  throughout  the  entire  west.  It 
proved  fatal,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  wherever  it 
spread.  Before  it  subsided,  another  mania  sprung  up,  to 
which  we  have  also  alluded;  namely,  the  laying  out  of 
QfiH  towns.  So  great  was  the  excitement,  that  town* 
18 


274  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

irere  laid  ou<  at  almost  every  cross  road  within  a  mile  of 
each  other,  and  on  the  tops  of  barren  hills.  It  was  nr 
matter  where  they  were  located,  plots  were  made,  adver- 
tisements were  stuck  up,  lots  were  sold,  and  magnificent 
squares  left  for  public  buildings.  After  this  rage  sub- 
sided, it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  society  was  left  in  a 
deplorable  condition.  The  imaginary  riches  of  the  specu- 
lator flew  away  like  the  morning  cloud,  and  from  a  state 
of  high  excitement  the  community  relapsed  into  a  state  of 
stagnation.  A  perfect  paralysis  seemed  to  have  come 
upon  every  department  of  business,  and  all  who  had  en- 
tered into  these  speculations  were  entirely  bankrupt.  Dis- 
content and  dissatisfaction  prevailed  every-where. 

About  three  weeks  previous  to  the  conference,  I  left  the 
circuit  to  accompany  Bishop  M'Kendree  and  assist  him 
with  his  pack-horse.  On  the  pack-horse  he  carried  the 
most  of  his  movables,  such  as  clothes,  books,  manuscripts, 
minutes  of  conferences,  etc.  It  would  look  rather  strange 
to  see  a  Methodist  bishop,  in  this  country,  now  on  horse- 
back, though  I  heard  of  one,  the  other  day,  on  a  mule  in 
California.  Our  first  stopping-place  was  Cambridge, 
where  the  Bishop  preached  at  twelve  o'clock.  From 
thence  we  traveled  on  to  Zanesville  the  next  day,  and  held 
meeting  again.  Thus  we  continued  on  our  course,  pass- 
ing through  Somerset,  Lancaster,  Chilicothe,  Hillsboro. 
Xenia,  and  Springfield,  holding  meetings  at  all  the  places 
but  Somerset.  Here  I  left  the  Bishop  and  rode  on  to  Me- 
chanicsburg,  where  the  brethren  were  holding  a  camp 
meeting — the  first  held  in  this  section  of  country.  This 
entire  region  was  overrun  with  New  Lights,  and  every 
thing  that  could  be  persuaded  to  go  under  the  water  was 
immersed.  This  was  all  the  rage,  and  the  highest  ambi- 
cion  of  the  preachers  of  that  fauh,  was  to  get  the  people 
dipped. '  The  novelty  of  a  camp  meeting  called  out  ira- 
aense    multitudes,   and    among   them    the    New    Lights, 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY*  275 

Those  who  know  any  thing  about  this  people,  esperially 
their  preachers,  know  that,  like  the  doctor  who  was  deatl 
on  fits,  they  are  great  on  argument.  There  were  tvvc 
things  specially  against  which  they  leveled  -their  artillery, 
and  these  were,  first,  Church  government,  and,  secondly, 
creeds,  etc.  The  reader  must  not  suppose,  from  this,  that 
they  were  a  Church  without  any  government  or  belief 
whatever.  Far  from  it;  their  great  central  doctrine  was 
immersion,  which  included  regeneration.  This  one  idea 
seemed  to  have  swallowed  up  all  other  forms  of  faith  and 
worship. 

Bishop  Asbury  came  to  this  camp  meeting  on  Saturday, 
in  company  with  his  traveling  companion,  the  Rev.  J.  W. 
Bond.  No  sooner  was  it  known  that  he  had  arrived,  than 
there  was  a  general  move  toward  him.  All  seemed  to  be 
anxious  to  see  a  bishop;  and  they  pressed  around  him  so 
closely  that  it  was  difficult  to  get  him  into  the  preachers* 
tent.  After  he  was  housed,  the  people  crowded  round  the 
door  by  hundreds.  He  remarked  to  me,  on  witnessing 
the  curiosity  of  the  people,  "You  might  as  well  have  an 
elephant  in  your  camp  as  to  have  me."  It  seemed  to 
annoy  him,  to  have  them  gazing  at  him  in  such  numbers; 
and  to  relieve  him  I  requested  them  to  retire  from  the 
tent,  and  the  Bishop  would  preach  for  them,  perhaps,  the 
next  day,  when  they  all  could  have  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing and  hearing  him.  Brother  Bond,  his  traveling  com- 
panion, desiring  to  visit  his  friends  at  Urbana,  I  took 
charge  of  the  Bishop,  and  made  him  as  comfortabl"  as 
circumstances  would  allow.  On  Sabbath  the  Bishop 
preached,  and  the  vast  concourse  had  an  opportunity  of 
judging  for  themselves  in  regard  to  the  ability  of  the 
Methodist  prelate. 

That  day  the  Gospel  was  preached  in  demonstration  of 
the  spirit  and  power  of  God.  During  the  meeting  man) 
were  converted  and  joined  the  Church.     At  the  close  of 


276  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

the  meeting  I  started,  with  the  Bishop,  for  Springfield, 
where  we  arrived  Tuesday  afternoon.  We  stopped  with 
a  Methodist  family.  As  we  passed  through  the  parlors 
we  saw  the  daughter  and  some  other  young  ladies  dressed 
very  gayly.  The  daughter  was  playing  on  the  piano,  and 
as  we  moved  through  the  room  we  doubtless  elicited  from 
those  fashionable  young  ladies  some  remarks  about  the 
rusticity  of  our  appearance ;  and  the  wonder  was  doubt- 
less excited,  where  on  earth  could  these  old  country  codg- 
ers have  come  from?  The  Bishop  took  his  seat,  and  pres- 
ently in  came  the  father  and  mother  of  the  young  lady. 
They  spoke  to  the  Bishop,  and  then  followed  the  grand- 
father and  grandmother.  When  the  old  lady  took  the 
Bishop  by  the  hand  he  held  it,  and  looking  her  in  the  face, 
while  the  tear  dropped  from  his  eye,  he  said,  "I  was  look- 
ing to  see  if  I  could  trace  in  the  lineaments  of  your  face, 
the  likeness  of  your  sainted  mother.  She  belonged  to  the 
first  generation  of  Methodists.  She  lived  a  holy  life  and 
died  a  most  happy  and  triumphant  death.  You,"  said 
the  Bishop,  "and  your  husband  belong  to  the  second  gen- 
eration of  Methodists.  Your  son  and  his  wife  are  the 
ihird,  and  that  young  girl,  your  granddaughter,  represents 
the  fourth.  She  has  learned  to  dress  and  play  on  the 
piano,  and  is  versed  in  all  the  arts  of  fashionable  life,  and 
I  presume,  at  this  rate  of  progress,  the  fifth  generation  of 
Methodists  will  be  sent  to  dancing-school."  This  was  a 
solemn  reproof,  and  it  had  a  powerful  effect  upon  the 
grandparents.  The  first  Methodists  were  a  peculiar  peo- 
ple in  their  personal  appearance  and  manners,  and  could 
be  distinguished  from  the  world  at  a  single  glance.  Their 
self-denial  led  them  to  the  abandonment  of  all  the  lusts  of 
the  flesh.  They  were  simple-hearted,  single-eyed,  hum- 
ble, and  devoted  followers  of  the  Savior.  They  loved 
God  devotedly  and  one  another  with  pure  hearts  fervently; 
and  though  scoffed  at  by  the  world,  hated  and  persecuted 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  Vn 

by  the  devil,  they  witnessed  a  good  profession  of  godliness 
and  faith.  • 

The  conference  was  held  in  Lebanon,  and  Bishops  As- 
bury  and  M'Kendree  were  both  present.  he  session  was 
one  characterized  by  great  harmony  amo.w  .he  preachers. 
It  lasted  seven  days,  at  the  expiration  of  which  we  all 
received  our  appointments.  I  was  sent  back  to  the  same 
circuit,  with  Joseph  Powell  for  my  colleague.  Brother 
David  Young  was  appointed  presiding  elder  of  the  dis 
trict;  J  at  as  he  had  business  requiring  his  attention  in 
E^  .  Tennessee,  I  was  drafted  to  make  the  first  round  of 
appointments,  and  my  place  was  supplied  in  n.y  absence. 
It  was  with  some  considerable  difficulty  I  consented  to 
attempt  the  task,  yet  with  great  depression  of  mind  I  en- 
tered upon  the  work  on  the  eighth  of  November.  I  was 
made  to  realize  my  trust  in  God  and  the  necessity  of 
greater  spiritual  ,ver.  I  prayed  with  earnestness  for 
the  baptism  of  tne  *Ioly  Spirit,  and  in  reconsecrating  my 
heart  to  God  .elt  the  power  divine.  0  the  ineffable 
richness  and  extent  of  divine  love!  May  my  soul  ever 
bask  in  its  infinite  ocean  !  At  the  first  quarterly  meeting, 
during  the  holy  communion,  the  Spirit  was  poured  out  in 
rich  effusion. 

Here  I  met  with  brothers  Waterman  and  Ruark,  and  on 
Monday  the  thirteenth,  rode  in  company  with  the  former 
to  Hubbert,  and  stopped  at  brother  Parrish's,  where  I 
/spent  the  evening  in  reading  and  prayer. 

Tuesday  \4th.  I  rode  through  Hartford  to  brother  J. 
Leech's,  on  Shenango.  This  was  a  lonesome  road,  and  I 
was  much  tempted  and  tried  in  mind.  I  prayed  all  the 
day  to  be  delivered,  and  did  find  some  relief. 

Wednesday  1 5th.  I  rode  through  Meadville,  on  French 
creek,  to  Gravel  run.  Here  I  put  up  at  brother  Ford's. 
Living,  in  this  county,  is  very  hard,  there  being  but  little 
for  man  or  beast.     This  day  I  am  not  so  tempted.     I 


278  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

slept  well  and  arose  early  to  offer  myself  to  God  without 
reserve. 

Thursday  \0>th.  I  rode  to  brother  King's  on  the  flats 
of  French  creek,  three  miles  from  Waterford.  Here  I  was 
comforted  and  felt  a  blessed  hope  of  heaven. 

Friday  \lth.  I  rode  through  Waterford  to  R.  K.'s — 
himself  and  wife  were  formerly  Methodists.  I  exhorted 
them  to  seek  the  Lord  and  set  forward  again  to  run  the 
race  set  before  them.  I  prayed  with  them,  and  wrent  on  to 
Erie.  This  town  occupies  a  handsome  site,  and  has  a  good 
harbor  for  vessels.  Here  I  met  with  brother  L.  Lane,  the 
preacher  on  this  circuit,  and  tried  to  preach,  at  night,  to  a 
number  of  hardened  sinners. 

Saturday  18/A.  Set  forward  for  North-east,  and  stopped 
at  brother  Russel's.     This  family  loves  the  Lord. 

Sunday  \9th.  I  tried  to  preach  to  a  large  congregation 
from  Acts  iii,  19.  The  Lord  helped  me,  and  we  had  a 
gracious  season.  I  trust  the  fruits  of  this  meeting  will  be 
seen  in  the  gates  of  heaven,  when  all  time  has  an  end. 

Monday  20tk.  Rode  through  Canadewray,  now  Fredo- 
nia,  to  brother  Baldwin's.  In  family  prayer  the  Lord  vis- 
ited us  in  mercy,  and  our  prospects  of  a  better  world  were 
greatly  increased. 

Tuesday  2\st.  Rode  sixteen  miles  further  down  the 
Lake  to  brother  Webb's.  This  is  a  new  country ;  every 
thing  scarce  and  dear,  and  hardly  to  be  had  at  all — corn 
two  dollars  per  bushel,  wheat  three  dollars  per  bushel, 
flour  sixteen  dollars  per  barrel,  and  pickled  pork  twenty- 
five  cents  per  pound.  These  new  settlers  must  learn  to 
live  by  faith,  and  many  of  them  have,  and  are  a  people 
zealous  of  good  works.  Here,  according  to  the  best  cal- 
dilation,  I  am  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
home,  and  yet  here  is  the  same  throne  of  grace,  the  sane  J 
►Savior,  and   Christians  of  the  same  spirit  and  heaven*  1 


KEV.     JAMES    B.     ft  IN  LEY.  279 

Wednesday  c22d.  This  day  I  preached  to  an  attentive, 
weeping  congregation,  after  which  I  baptized  six  by  im- 
mersion, and  it  was  a  solemn  time,  and  afterward  visited 
a  sick  brother.  He  wras  happy  in  God  his  Savior,  and 
was  resigned  to  his  will,  waiting  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ,  which  is  far  better.  This  evening  rode  five  mile 
to  a  neighborhood  on  Silver  creek,  where  the  Lord  is  gra- 
ciously reviving  his  work,  and  many  of  these  new  settlors 
have  been  converted  to  God.  It  has  been  the  observation 
of  my  life,  that  new  countries  and  new  settlements  are  the 
most  favorable  to  revivals  of  religion.  Many  who  have 
lived  under  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  old  settlements, 
and  might  have  lived  and  died  there  without  religion, 
when  thrown  into  a  new  country,  from  their  old  associates 
and  other  hinderances,  turn  to  God  and  live. 

Thursday  23d.  This  morning  I  felt  much  revived  and 
encouraged.  My  communion  with  God  was  sweet;  yes, 
sweeter  than  honey  or  the  honey-comb.  I  spent  part  of 
the  forenoon  in  visiting  the  young  converts,  and  in  pray- 
ing with  them.  At  twelve  o'clock  I  tried  to  preach  to  a 
large,  attentive,  and  weeping  congregation,  and,  I  trust, 
not  in  vain,  and  baptized  six  by  immersion,  and  several 
joined  the  Church.  It  is  in  accordance  with  the  religious 
education  of  these  people  that  no  one  must  kneel  in  prayer, 
at  least  till  he  has  determined  to  be  religious ;  then  he 
must  get  religion,  and  then  be  baptized,  and  that  by  im- 
mersion, and  then  join  the  Church,  and  then  take  up  his 
or  her  cross  in  prayer  and  conversational  class  or  love- 
feast  meetings.  In  the  afternoon  we  rode  twelve  miles  to 
brother  Baldwin's,  and  had  a  good  night's  rest. 

Friday  2Mli.  Started  for  Chatauque  Lake  in  company 
with  brother  Lane,  and  after  traveling  several  mile* 
through  a  swampy  country,  we  arrived  at  a  brother  South 
worth's,  where  quarterly  meeting  is  to  commence  to- 
morrow. 


280  AUTOUTOORAPHY     OF 

Saturday  25lh.  This  day  it  began  to  rain,  and  looked 
as  thouoh  a  storm  was  on  band.  I  sought,  before  the 
mercy  seat,  for  a  suitable  preparation  of  heart  for  the  du- 
ties which  lay  before  me,  and  I  felt  the  Lord  precious  to 
my  soul.  At  twelve  o'clock  I  tried  to  preach  from  Matt. 
viii,  11,  12,  and  it  was  a  very  open  time  with  me;  the 
Lord  helped  me.  There  was  a  great  move  in  the  congre- 
gation ;  saints  rejoiced,  and  sinners  cried  aloud  for  mercy. 
After  preaching  we  held  our  quarterly  meeting  confer- 
ence. There  were  two  appeals,  and  we  got  them  adjusted 
satisfactorily.  At  five  brother  Smith  preached,  and  I  ex- 
horted after  him,  and  then  we  held  a  prayer  meeting;  and 
the  shouts  of  new-born  souls  were  heard  before  it  closed. 

Sunday  26tk.  At  nine  o'clock  our  sacrament  com- 
menced, and  we  had  a  good  time.  But  Satan  was  en- 
raged at  our  love-feast:  one  of  the  old  men's  sons,  who 
was  kept  out,  became  enraged,  and  tried  to  break  open 
the  door,  and  then  went  to  a  window  and  broke  it,  and 
hurt  an  old  man  much.  God's  judgments  will  overtake 
him  before  lonof.  I  was  told  he  will  curse  his  mother  and 
father  to  their  faces.  Notwithstanding  this  interruption, 
the  meeting  was  one  of  interest  and  power.  At  twelve  I 
commenced  preaching  from  the  first  Psalm,  and  the  three 
first  verses  I  read  for  my  text.  During  the  time  of  my 
Dreaching,  in  which  I  laid  it  down  as  heavy  as  I  could  on 
the  sinner,  some  one  called  me  a  liar.  Satan  was  enraged 
to  the  very  highest  pitch ;  his  kingdom  was  shaking,  and 
I  felt  that  God,  and  heaven,  and  angels,  were  with  us,  and 
on  our  side,  and  the  devil's  kingdom  trembled.  Such  was 
the  constancy  of  the  rain,  that  few  could  leave,  and  we 
had  a  house-full.  All  night  was  spent  io  exhortations, 
singing,  and  prayer.  It  was  a  night  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. 

Monday  27th.  I  rode  to  North-east,  and  preached  to 
a  dull,  hardened  set  of  sinners,  from  Prov.  xx,  4. 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  2t 

Tuesday  28th.  Rode  to  brother  Stone's,  and  put  up  t. 
rest  till  to-morrow.  Sister  Stone  is  an  old  lady,  and  h 
well-tried  Christian.  She  embraced  religion,  in  early  life, 
and  became  a  member  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
when  it  was  a  reproach  and  by-word;  but  she  knew  in 
whom  she  had  believed,  and  walked  with  God  in  newness 
of  life.  She  is  now  a  mother  in  our  Israel,  and  we  Meth- 
odist preachers  find  in  her  a  mother,  and  her  house  a 
welcome  home.  For  years  after  this  I  made  her  house 
my  home,  when  I  could  reach  it.  She  sent  for  'Squire 
Reese  and  his  wife  to  spend  the  afternoon,  and  we  had  a 
comfortable  time.  We  mingled  our  prayers  together, 
resolved  to  live  for  God,  and  strive  for  heaven. 

Wednesday  29th.  This  day  I  feel  at  peace  with  God, 
and  all  men.  At  two  o'clock  I  tried  to  preach  to  the  peo- 
ple from  Heb.  ii,  3,  and  some  were  awakened  to  see  their 
condition,  and  to  pray.  May  the  work  of  life  penetrate 
the  inmost  hearts,  and  bring  forth  fruits  unto  holiness, 
that  the  end  may  be  eternal  life  ! 

Thursday  30th.  This  morning  my  soul  is  staid  on 
God.  I  rode  to  Erie,  where  I  saw  the  vessels  which  Com- 
modore Perry  took  from  the  enemy  when  he  conquered 
the  British  navy  on  Lake  Erie.  They  were  literally  torn 
.to  pieces.  The  Niagara  is  the  largest,  and  seems  to  have 
received  the  hottest  fire.  They  all  lay  out  in  the  basin, 
sunk,  a  mile  from  the  town.  From  Erie  I  rode  to  brother. 
Randall's,  on  Conneaut,  where  our  next  quarterly  ineethj 
is  to  be  held — thirty -two  miles  up  the  Lake. 

Friday  31st.  At  twelve  o'clock  our  meeting  cpifi* 
nenced.  I  tried  to  expound  John  xii,  21,  22.  Brother 
Ira  Eddy  exhorted.  In  the  quarterly  conference  we  had 
a  good  time,  stirring  each  other  up  to  faith  and  good 
works.  In  the  evening  brother  Stantliff  preached,  and 
Drother  Westlake  exhorted.  This  was  a  time  of  oTeat 
power.     On  the  Sabbath  I  tried  to  hold  forth  from  John 


282  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

vi,  50.  A*  «;.  close,  some  fen,  others  shouted,  and  sorns 
were  in  a  lage  At  night  the  Lord's  people  were  tilled 
with  his  heavenly  presence  in  an  astonishing  manner;  and 
while  some  were  shouting  and  praising  God  in  the  house, 
others  were  in  the  yard  giving  glory  to  God  in  the  highest. 

Monday  I  rode  forty  miles  to  brother  Skene's,  and  next 
day  to  brother  J.  Leach's,  and  preached  in  old  Salem 
meeting-house ;  thence  to  Beaver-town,  w  here  we  had 
a  good  quarterly  meeting;  thence  home  to  Steubenville, 
where  I  found  my  family  all  well,  and  glad  that  my  serv- 
ice as  presiding  elder  was  at  an  end. 

In  a  short  time  I  took  my  circuit,  to  my  great  comfort 
At  my  own  quarterly  meeting  we  had  a  time  of  grace 
and  mercy.  Our  Smithfield  class  had  grown  so  that  there 
was  no  place  to  hold  us.  I  then  resolved  to  try  to  put  up 
a  meeting- house;  but  ground  must  first  be  obtained,  and 
I  went  to  the  proprietor  and  asked  to  buy  a  place  suitable 
for  a  meeting-house.  He  then  promised  he  would  let  me 
have  a  place  suitable,  and  would  select  it  by  the  time  ] 
returned.  When  I  returned  there  was  no  lot  found,  and 
he  could  not  let  us  have  any.  I  then  made  application  t.G 
a  man  who  made  no  pretensions  to  religion,  and  he  told 
me  I  should  have  a  lot;  and  he  took  me  to  the  lot  on 
which  the  Church  was  built,  and  gave  it  me  for  forty 
dollars.  I  set  to  work,  and,  scarce  as  money  was,  in  one 
round  I  collected  the  amount  and  got  the  deed.  Then 
the  money  must  be  raised  to  build.  Five  hundred  dol- 
lars were  necessary.  This  time  it  was  hard  work.  But  it 
must  be  done ;  and  to  begging  we  went.  Those  who  cou'id 
not  give  money  gave  trade.  I  got  from  the  sisters  moro 
than  the  half  of  it,  in  linens,  yarn,  thread,  socks,  stock- 
ings, flax,  and  feathers.  So  I  traded  and  persevered,  till, 
by  the  help  of  God,  I  made  it  up ;  and  we  got  a  house, 
and  dedicated  it  to  the  service  of  God.  We  had  the 
following    preaching-place*.;    namely,   Ste'jbenvil'e—  nere 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  283 

we  spent  the  whole  Sabbath — Hale's  meeting-house,  Fid 
ward  Taylor's,  Scarlott's,  Davis's,  Moore's,  Long's  meet- 
ing-house,  Baker's,  Kent's,  Evans's,  Hinde's,  Cadiz,  Dick- 
erson's,  Roberts's,  Holmes's  meeting-house,  Cramlett'b, 
Smithfield,  Hopewell  meeting-house,  Scott's,  Dean's, 
Permar's,  and  another  I  do  not  recollect. 

This  year  we  had  to  train  those  who  had  joined  thf, 
year  before ;  and  this  we  labored  to  do  by  requiring  a 
strict  attention  to  class,  prayer  meeting,  family,  and  pri- 
vate prayer,  and  especially  the  last  two.  We  admitted 
of  no  exemption.  Many  excuses  wrere  made  about  family 
prayer;  but  the  rules  required  it,  and  the  family  required 
it,  and  Christianity  *  required  it..  Some  were  borne  with 
for  a  season ;  but  if  they  repented  not  they  were  excluded 
for  neglect  of  duty.  The  leaders  were  all  instructed  to 
watch  over  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  report  any 
who  should  desecrate  the  day  by  doing  ordinary  work, 
buying,  selling,  or  running  about  when  they  ought  to  be 
nt  Church.  The  leaders  -pretty  generally  did  their  duty, 
so  that  those  who  were  not  in  earnest  seeking  the  Lord, 
the  place  became  too  strict  for  them,  and  they  retired ; 
and,  notwithstanding  all  the  difficulties  wre  had  to  contend 
with,  we  wrere  able  to  return  forty  net  increase.  We 
closed  our  year's  labor  with  a  camp  meeting  on  Lost  run. 
This  was  a  season  of  the  gathering  together  of  the  people, 
and  they  came,  many  of  them,  in  the  spirit  of  the  work. 
It  commenced  with  singing  and  prayer  meeting,  which 
continued  almost  day  and  night,  in  some  part  of  the  en- 
campment, till  it  closed.  How  many  were  converted  none 
could  tell.  About  one  hundred  gave  in  their  names  as 
probationers,  but  were  not  returned  on  the  Minutes 
Thus  closed  my  second  year  on  this  circuit.  I  was  much 
attached  to  the  people  both  in  and  out  of  the  Church. 

I  started  to  conference,  at  Louisville,  in  Kentucky,  in 
company  with  Bishop  M'Kendree.     At  Chilicothe  we  fell 


28i  AUrOBIOGEAyilY     OF 

in  with  Bishop  George,  crossed  the  Ohio  at  Maysvi!le,  and 
at  Paris  we  parted.  Bishop  M'Kendree  went  through 
Georgetown  and  Bishop  George  through  Lexington,  to 
meet  the  Shelbyville  camp  meeting  the  Saturday  and  Sab- 
bath before  conference.  At  this  place  was  collected  nearl) 
6ne-half  the  conference.  Such  a  crowd  and  so  mucl: 
feasting  was  going  on  that  little  good  was  done.  Wt 
retired  in  the  afternoon  to  a  farm-house,  and  staid  all 
night.  Next  day  we  started  for  the  seat  of  the  confer- 
ence, where  we  arrived.  The  session  of  the  conference 
was  opened  on  the  3d  of  September,  1816. 

This  closes  my  diary  for  that  time,  and  1  give  it  v  tl« 
reader  just  as  it  was  entered  in  my  journal. 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    IINLEY.  2S« 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ITINERANT    LIB^E     CONTINUED. 

At  the  conference  all  the  Bishops  were  present — 
M'Kendree,  Roberts,  and  George.  Bishop  Asburv  Iuiq 
ceased  his  labors,  and  followed  his  beloved  Coke  to 
heaven.  It  was  an  interesting  session  to  both  preachers 
and  people.  One  day  a  messenger  came  to  me  and  in- 
formed me  that  Bishop  M'Kendree  wished  to  see  me  at 
his  room.  I  went  accordingly,  and  when  I  arrived  he 
said,  "I  am  going  to  put  you  in  charge  of  the  Ohio  dis- 
trict." I  told  him  candidly  I  thought  he  might  make  a 
much  better  selection ;  and,  besides,  I  was  entirely  too 
young  in  the  ministry  for  such  a  post.  ''Well,"  said  he, 
"you  must  go  and  learn.  You  are  not  too  young  to 
learn."  Accordingly,  when  the  appointments  ,were  read 
out,  my  name  stood  in  connection  with  the  OhjJ  district. 
I  felt  exceedingly  depressed,  and  groaned  under  rhe  load ; 
but  I  resolved,  God  being  my  helper,  to  enter  the  field 
and  do  the  best  I  possibly  could  under  the  circumstance?,. 
My  district  embraced  eight  circuits,  extending  from  the 
mouth  of  Captina,  on  the  Ohio  river,  to  the  lake  at  the 
mouth  of  Huron,  including  the  state  of  Ohio,  all  the 
Western  Reserve,  all  western  Pennsylvania,  from  the 
Ohio,  and  Alleghanies,  and  western  New  York,  as  far 
down  as  Silver  creek,  below  Fredonia.  On  this  field  of 
labor  were  ten  traveling  preachers  and  a  membership  of 
four  thousand  and  fifty.  My  first  round  of  quarterly 
rrnetings  commenced  October  19th  and  20th,  at  Lees- 
Durg,  on  Tuscarawas  circuit.     The  next  was  on  Beavei 


286  A  I'TOBIOGE  A  PHY    OF 

circuit,  at  the  Falls  of  Big  Beaver,  on  the  26th  and  27th 
Granl  River  and  Mahoning,  at  Hartford,  Western  Re- 
serve, on  November  2d  and  3d;  Eiie  circuit,  at  Oil  creek, 
on  the  Alleghany  river,  in  western  Pennsylvania,  Novem- 
ber 9th  and  10th;  Chatauque  circuit,  at  Broken  Straw, 
November  16th  and  17lh;  Shemtngo  circuit,  at  Jackman's 
meeting-house,  four  miles  bilow  Pittsburg,  November 
23d  and  24th ;  Steubenville  circuit,  at  Lono's  meetini>:- 
house;  November  30th  and  December  1st;  West  Wheel- 
ing, December  7th  and  8th,  at  Andrew  Scott's,  near 
Wheeling.  The  most  of  these  quarterly  meetings  were 
seasons  of  great  interest,  and  attended  with  Divine  mani- 
festations. It  was  customary,  in  consequence  of  the  new- 
ness of  the  country  and  the  sparseness  of  the  population, 
to  hold  prayer  meetings  at  different  places,  on  Saturday 
night  of  the  quarterly  meeting.  These  meetings  were 
attended  with  great  good,  and  when  they  would  all  meet 
in  love-feast  in  the  morning,  and  speak  of  the  blessings 
received  at  different  places  where  the  meetings  were  held, 
it  would  kindle  the  spirit  of  piety ;  and  I  have  no  doubt 
if  this  practice  had  been  continued  it  would  have  resulted 
in  vastly  more  good  to  the  Church  than  the  preaching  of 
Saturday  night.  A  custom  prevailed  at  these  meetings 
which  was  strange  to  me.  No  one  was  called  on  to  pray. 
The  leader  would  say,  "  If  any  of  you  feel  like  taking  up 
the  cross  and  delivering  your  mind,  do  so."  Sometimes 
three  or  four  would  commence  at  once.  This  was  alto- 
gether upon  the  voluntary  principle.  The  practice  was 
carried  into  the  public  meetings,  and  if  any  one  male  or 
female  felt  inspired,  no  matter  who  was  preaching,  they 
would  rise  and  deliver  their  impressions.  While  I  was 
preaching  one  Sabbath,  at  a  quarterly  meeting,  a  sister 
rose  and  commenced  delivering  her  mind  at  the  top  of 
her  voice.  This  sudden  and  unexpected  outburst  startled 
me,  and  I  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.     I  told  her 


REV.    JAMES     B.     FIN  LEY.  267 

however,  to  hold  up,  and  if,  after  I  was  done  my  sermon, 
she  wished  to  exhort,  she  should  have  the  opportunity,  as 
I  thought  one  at  a  time  was  quite  enough.  "  She  took  her 
seat,  and  many  were  much  tried  because  I  stopped  her. 
After  this  I  was  not  again  interrupted  by  a  female  prophet. 
I  thought  the  practice  a  wrong  one,  and  contrary  to  thai 
decency  and  order  which  should  characterize  the  worship 
of  God,  and  quoted  the  language  of  St.  Paul  in  regard  to 
women  teaching  in  the  Church,  and  expressed  a  hope  that 
the  Spirit  would  not  move  any  more  to  speak  on  such  oc- 
casions. The  people  had  another  practice  which  I  greatly 
disliked;  namely,  that  of  keeping  open  doors  at  love-feasts 
and  class  meetings.  I  took  strong  ground  against  this 
practice,  and  found  that  among  the  New  England  Meth- 
odists there  was  much  opposition,  as  they  desired  to  have 
all  their  neighbors,  good  and  bad,  enjoy  all  the  advan- 
tages connected  with  their  select  meetings.  I  labored  to 
show  the  impropriety  of  such  a  course.  We  were  ex*- 
horted  not  to  give  that  which  was  holy  to  dogs,  or  to  cast 
our  pearls  before  swine. 

But  these  were  not  the  only  difficulties  we  had  to  con- 
tend with.  In  almost  all  the  towns,  Calvinism  and  Uni- 
versalism  had  intrenched  themselves.  A  Calvinist  min- 
ister was  stationed  in  almost  every  town,  and  the  Presby- 
terian influence  was  so  great  that  Methodism  could 
scarcely  live.  What  few  Methodists,  there,  were,  could 
not  hope  to  rise  above  the  occupation  in  the  Church  of 
hewing  wood  and  drawing  water.  When  they  were  few 
and  despised,  Presbyterian  dignity  could  not  stoop  to  a 
recognition  of  them ;  but  when  the  number  increased,  and 
'fce  fervent  Gospel  appeals  of  the  "circuit  rider"  waked 
up  the  town,  then  the  gentleman  in  black  would  call  and 
inquire  into  the  "religious  interest"  that  seemed  to  be 
abroad  in  the  town,  and  speak  of  the  much  greater  atten- 
tion which  was  shown   to  preaching  in  his  congregation. 


288  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

and  suggest  the  holding  of  a  un:3n  meet:ng;  and  such  a 
union  !  Save  the  mark  !  Presbyterian  union,  formed  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  using  the  Methodists  in  advancing 
Presbyterianism  !  *  I  plainly  told  my  brethren  I  had  noth* 
ino-  against  the  Presbyterians;  I  loved  them,  but  I  loved 
Methodism  more,  and,  as  we  had  a  shop  of  our  own,  we 
would  not  work  journey-work  any  longer.  I  exhorted 
them  to  hold  their  own  prayer  meetings  and  class  meet- 
ings, and  attend  to  their  duty,  and  God  would  revive  his 
work  in  his  own  way.  "In  your  union  meetings,"  said 
I,  "you  can  not  pray  aloud;  and  if  one  of  you  should 
get  happy,  you  must  quench  the  Spirit;  or  if  you  take  >» 
Methodist  shout,  they  will  carry  you  out  as  a  disturbei 
of  the  peace;  besides,  you  dare  not  even  to  say  amen 
above  a  whisper." 

This  short,  homely  address,  brought  down  many  bitter 
things  on  my  head,  and  waked  up  a  spirit  of  controversy. 
•I  carried  the  Confession  of  Faith  with  me,  and  whenever 
the  doctrine  of  the  horrible  decree  was  denied,  I  would 
produce  the  old  Saybrook  platform  in  my  congregations, 
and  read  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  hearers.  My  course 
in  this  regard  gave  great  offense.  Some  of  my  opponents 
ueemed  to  affect  great  astonishment  that  I  should  have 
tie  effrontery  to  expose  the  tenets  of  Calvin.  Such  con- 
duct was  insufferable;  but  I  was  not  Servetus,  and  so 
passed  unhurt  amid  the  bowlings  of  the  enemy.  This 
course  soon  waked  up  the  popular  mind,  and  inquiries  and 
investigations  were  made,  which  resulted  most  favorably 
to  the  Methodist  cause.  I  exhorted  the  preachers  to  scat 
ter  the  doctrinal  tracts;  Wesley  on  Predestination,  and 
Fletcher's  Checks;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  many  were 
awakened  and  converted. 

The  second  round  of  quarterly  meetings  commenced  in 
January,  and  closed  on  the  first  and  second  of  March 
In  this  round  I  suffered  much  with  a  cold,  which  I  ha( 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLET.  289 

« 

contracted  from  exposure  to  the  chilling  blasts  of  the 
northern  lakes.  Our  meetings  were  all  attended  with  the 
presence  and  power  of  God,  and  the  preachers  were  all 
in  the  spirit  of  revivals.  At  North-east  we  had  a  most 
glorious  time,  both  among  saints  and  sinners.  The  snow 
was  about  two  feet  deep,  and  continued  for  a  long  time, 
affording  great  facilities  for  sleighing,  which  were  im- 
proved. Vast  numbers  came  to  church,  and  many  were 
converted.  At  this  place  I  visited  the  grave  of  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Branch,  a  native  of  Preston,  Connecticut.  He 
entered  the  traveling  connection  in  1 800,  in  the  New  York 
conference.  He  labored  in  the  vineyard  of  his  Lord  with 
great  acceptability  and  usefulness  to  the  people.  His 
health  failing  him,  and  thinking  that  a  change  of  climate 
would  improve  it,  he  asked  for  and  obtained  a  transfer  to 
our  conference,  and  was  appointed,  with  brother  David 
Young,  to  Marietta  circuit,  in  1812.  He  progressed  in 
his  travels  as  far  as  North-east,  in  Pennsylvania,  where 
he  was  obliged,  from  increasing  disability,  to  desist  from 
his  labors,  and  seek  rest.  But  his  work  was  done,  and 
his  rest  was  to  be  the  rest  of  heaven.  My  feelings  were 
of  a  peculiarly- solemn  cast,  as  I  stood  by  that  lone  grave 
of  the  stranger  minister,  in  a  strange  land.  His  meek 
and  quiet  spirit  won  for  him  the  friendship  of  all.  In- 
deed, it  may  be  said, 

"None  knew  him  but  to  love  him, 
None  named  him  but  to  praise." 

And  though  he  died  away  from  home,  and  his  eyes  were 
closed  by  stranger  hands,  they  were,  nevertheless,  the 
hands  of  affection. 

The  last  round  of  quarterly  meetings  for  the  year  were 
camp  meetings,  with  few  exceptions.  A  quarterly  meet- 
ing was  held  at  Long's,  which  was  called  the  great  quar- 
terly meeting,  and  is  so  remembered  to  this  day.  My 
brother,  John  P.  Finley,  was  present  at  this  meeting.  On 
19 


290  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

the  Sabbath  he  took  for  his  text  but  one  word,  and  that 
word  was  Mercy.  God  was  truly  with  us  in  mercy.  The 
whole  assembly  was  melted  down  under  the  genial  influ- 
ences of  the  spirit  of  the  text.  It  was  my  lot  to  follow, 
and  I  took  for  my  text  Justice.  As  I  progressed,  the  con- 
victing power  of  God  fell  on  the  people,  and  before  I  was 
done  more  than  twenty  stout-hearted  sinners  threw  them- 
selves upon  the  altar,  and  cried  for  mercy.  Among  the 
number  was  a  rough,  stalwart  old  sea  captain.  It  seemed 
as  though  all  the  dark  spirits  of  the  deep  had  seized  him. 
I  never  saw  a  man  in  so  much  distress  and  agony  of  mind 
in  all  my  life  before.  The  conflict,  however,  though  ter- 
rible and  awful,  was  not  of  long  duration.  In  a  short 
lime  mercy  came  and  touched  his  heart,  and  opened  his 
eyes,  and  unloosed  his  tongue,  and  he  spoke  the  language 
of  heaven.  Before  the  meeting  ended  more  than  fifty 
were  converted. 

Our  quarterly  camp  meeting  commenced  at  Canadeway, 
or  what  is  now  called  Fredonia,  July  24,  and  lasted  four 
days.  Brothers  James  M'Mahon  and  Smith  accompanied 
me  to  labor  in  word  and  doctrine.  At  this  meeting  we 
expected  from  the  wicked  much  opposition,  as  they  col- 
lected together  a  band  the  previous  year,  and  drove  the 
people  away.  The  brethren  this  year  fenced  in  the 
ground  with  hemlock  brush,  leaving  two  gate-ways,  one 
of  ingress  and  egress,  and  the  other  leading  to  the  spring. 
One  of  the  rules  for  the  government  of  the  encampmen*. 
was.  that  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  at  nine  o'clock  at 
night,  all  were  to  retire  to  their  tents,  and  those  who  had 
no  place  to  lodge  were  required  to  leave  the  ground.  At 
dark  the  rabble  gathered,  and  one  of  their  number  was 
designated  as  their  captain  by  a  piece  of  white  paper 
attached  to  his  hat,  and  a  white  club  in  his  hand.  The 
company  made  but  little  disturbance  till  preaching  was 
over.     Seeing  thai  there  were  indications   of  hostility  od 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLET.  291 

their  part,  I  blew  the  trumpet,  and  requested  all  to  go  to 
their  tents,  while  those  who  had  none  were  to  leave  the 
ground. 

The  captain  of  this  banditti  refused  to  go,  and  sum- 
moned his  men  to  go  to  his  aid.  I  ordered  the  constable 
to  take  the  captain  a  prisoner;  but  he  swore  he  would 
knock  down  the  first  man  that  touched  him.  He  had 
hardly  finished  the  declaration  till  I  seized  him  and  threw 
him  on  the  ground,  and,  disarming  him,  gave  him  over 
into  the  custody  of  the  officer.  His  company,  seeing  the 
fate  of  their  captain,  fled  in  dismay  from  the  ground.  In 
a  conversation  I  had  with  the  prisoner  I  learned  what  his 
plans  were,  and  how  sadly  he  was  disappointed  in  not 
being  able  to  carry  them  out.  He  pleaded  so  hard  for 
mercy,  and  promised  so  faithfully  never  to  engage  in  such 
a  wicked  work  again,  that  I  let  him  go.  We  kept  up  a 
watch  all  night,  fearing  they  might  return ;  but  they  did 
not  disturb  us.  Some  were  in  favor  of  an  attack;  but 
one  of  the  company  reported  that,  as  I  was  a  Kentuckian, 
I  carried  a  long  dirk  in  my  waistcoat,  and  that  I  would  as 
soon  stab  a  man  as  not. 

The  hour  for  preaching  had  arrived,  and,  as  there  were 
rumors  coming  in  from  various  quarters,  that  the  rowdies 
were  gathering,  I  preached  on  the  subject  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty.  Of  course  this  led  me  to  speak  of  our 
Pilgrim  forefathers,  and  the  dangers  and  sufferings  endured 
by  them  in  crossing  a  wintery  deep  to  plant  the  standard 
of  equal  rights  on  this  desert  soil ;  and  that  they  might 

"  Leave  unstained  what  here  they  found — 
Freedom  to  worship  God  " — 

they  pledged  their  lives,  their  fortunes,  and  their  fame 
I  remarked,  if  there  were  any  in  whom  flowed  the  blood 
of  the  patriot  sires  of  '76  present  that  day,  who  would 
protect  us  in  the  exercise  of  our  religious  rights  and  privi- 
leges, to  come  over  on  our  side,  and  defend  us  from  (he 


292  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

rabbla  Just  at  that  moment  Judge  Cushing,  who  wa? 
sitting  in  the  congregation,  rose,  and  addressing  the  au- 
dience, said,  "I  have  fought  for  this  liberty,  and  I  wil) 
maintain  it  with  my  life ;  and  I  give  due  notice,  as  a  serv- 
ant of  my  country,  that  I  will  enforce  the  laws  of  the 
state  of  New  York  to  the  utmost  against  any  one  who 
shall  disturb  this  people  in  their  worship."  From  this 
on,  the  meeting  was  the  most  orderly  one  I  had  attended 

The  Sabbath  morn  broke  upon  the  earth  in  all  its  sacred 
stillness.  All  nature  seemed  to  rest  calmly  in  the  light 
and  beauty  of  that  Sabbath  morn.  At  an  early  hour  the 
trumpet  summoned  us  to  the  concert  of  prayer.  Brother 
M'Mahon  commenced  the  morning  services,  and  preached 
at  eight  o'clock  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  power. 
I  followed  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  brother  Smith  at  five. 
At  every  coming  together  of  the  people  the  work  of  the 
Lord  progressed  with  power,  and  during  the  night,  in  the 
tents,  many  were  born  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  This 
meeting  exerted  a  good  influence  upon  the  whole  sur- 
rounding country.  So  clear  and  powerful  were  the  con- 
versions, followed  up,  as.  they  were,  by  consistent  relig- 
ious lives,  that  the  mouths  of  gainsayers  were  stopped. 

A  singular  case  was  brought  before  the  quarterly  meet- 
ing conference  at  Nelson,  which  I  will  relate.  A  local 
preacher  had  been  suspended  on  charges  preferred  against 
him  by  a  Mr.  M'Intosh.  The  parties  having  presented 
themselves,  I  called  for  the  papers  in  the  case.  The  ac- 
cuser refused  to  hand  them  over,  and  contended  that  he 
had  the  only  right  to  read  them.  I  told  him  if  he  did  not 
hand  over  the  papers  to  the  secretary  of  the  conference  J 
would  dismiss  the  case.  After  some  consultation,  hf 
finally  gave  them,  with  much  reluctance,  to  the  secretary, 
The  testimony  seemed  quite  voluminous,  the  papers  num- 
bering from  one  to  twenty.  On  examining  these  papers  J 
found  that  they  wrere  all  written  with  one  hand,  which 


REV.    JAMES    B.    E  IN  LEY.  29Z 

excited  my  suspicion  that  all  was  not  right.  I  asked  the 
preacher  if  he  was  prepared  for  his  trial.  He  replied  tha» 
he  had  received  no  notice  of  the  taking  of  the  testimony 
contained  in  those  depositions,  and  that  it  was  not  taken 
either  in  the  presence  of  himself  or  the  preacher  in 
charge.  My  suspicions  of  a  villainous  attempt  to  ruin 
this  brother,  were  confirmed  by  this  development.  I  no- 
ticed that  some  had  made  their  marks,  being  unable  to 
write,  and  I  called  one  of  them  in.  To  this  Mr.  M'Intosh 
strongly  objected.  I  then  turned  to  the  witness  and  said, 
"Will  you  please  to  state  what  you  know  of  this  mat- 
ter?" "Why,  sir,"  said  he,  somewhat  surprised,  "1 
know  nothing  about  it."  I  then  proceeded  to  read  what 
had  been  signed  by  him  as  his  testimony.  He  was  still 
more  surprised,  and  positively  denied  ever  having  said 
such  things,  and  that  what  was  there  written  was  entirely 
contrary  to  what  Mr.  M'Intosh  had  read  to  him.  At  this 
the  accuser  demanded  the  papers  as  his  property,  and  on 
my  refusing,  he  began  to  swear  that  he  would  have  them, 
and  threatened  to  sue  me.  I  told  him  his  papers  were  a 
piece  of  forgery,  and  if  he  did  not  keep  perfectly  quiet,  I 
would  have  him  prosecuted  for  forgery.  I  had  the  papers 
filed  with  the  conference  papers.  The  decision  of  the  com- 
mittee was  reversed  in  the  case  of  the  persecuted  brother, 
who  felt  like  a  man  taken  out  of  a  dreadful  pit.  Thus 
ended  this  case.  It  was  a  foul,  dark  plot  to  ruin  the  rep- 
utation of  a  minister ;  but  God  overruled  it,  and  the  guilty 
were  brought  to  light. 

The  next  quarterly  camp  meeting  was  held  at  Gravel 
run,  and  commenced  the  first  day  of  August.  These 
meetings  were  attended  with  great  good;  for  whatever 
may  be  said  now  about  the  propriety  of  camp  meetings, 
when  churches  are  scattered  all  over  the  country,  and 
whole  conferences  are  included  in  what  was  then  embraced 
in  a  district,  it  is  very  certain  that  they  proved  of  essen- 


294  AUTOBIO.GRAPHY    OF 

tial  service  to  the  Church.  Many  were  converted  that 
otherwise  would  not  have  heard  the  Gospel ;  besides, 
backsliders  were  reclaimed,  and  believers  were  quickened 
and  built  up  in  Christian  faith. 

An  English  officer,  who  had  heard  of  camp  meetings. 
but  never  saw  one,  came  down  from  Erie  to  gratify  his 
curiosity.  He  kept  a  journal  of  all  the  meetings,  noting 
down  every  thing  in  the  order  in  which  it  occurred.  Be- 
ing disposed  to  allegorize,  he  compared  the  Church  to  an 
army  making  an  attack  on  the  army  of  the  world.  The 
army  of  the  Church  was  under  the  command  of  Imman- 
uel,  and  that  of  the  world  under  Diabolus.  Every  meet- 
ing was  regarded  as  an  engagement  with  the  enemy,  and 
the  number  of  converts  were  reported  as  the  loss  in  Dia- 
bolus's  army.  Those  who  joined  the  Church  were  repre- 
sented as  recruits.  The  great  battle  was  fought  on  Sab- 
bath night.  It  was  a  close  and  hot  engagement,  lasting 
all  night.  The  army  of  Diabolus  was  attacked  in  front, 
flank,  and  rear,  and  literally  cut  to  pieces,  so  that,  in  mil- 
itary parlance,  there  was  a  total  defeat,  a  perfect  rout  of 
horse,  foot,  and  dragoons.  Immanuel's  troops  kept  the 
ground,  without  the  loss  of  a  single  officer  or  private  sol- 
dier, and  triumphant  victory  perched  on  the  banner  of  the 
cross.  The  officer  said  he  would  carry  the  report  which 
he  had  written  to  England,  and  show  his  countrymen  how 
Americans  conducted  a  holy  war. 

Our  next  encampment  was  on  Beaver  circuit,  at  Zuver's 
camp-ground,  and  commenced  the  eighth  of  August.  At 
this  meeting  we  expected  to  be  interrupted  by  the  rabble, 
as  great  threats  had  been  made  by  them  in  reference  to 
ihe  camp  meeting.  A  young  militia  captain,  however, 
in  company  with  eleven  young  men,  came  to  our  assist- 
ance, and  offered  their  services  to  keep  order.  As  none 
of  them  were  professors  of  religion,  I  felt  somewhat  sus- 
picious of  them,  and  thought  it  might  perhaps  be  a  mere 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  295 

ruse  to  get  us  into  difficulty.  After  I  had  examined  into 
the  character  and  standing  of  the  young  men,  1  fully  ac- 
quiesced in  their  proposition ;  and  they'  did  their  duty 
most  faithfully,  securing  the  most  perfect  order  to  the 
whole  encampment. 

At  this  meeting  we  were  assisted  by  that  veteran  pioneei 
preacher,  Dr.  Shadrach  Bostwick,  who  had  for  fourteen 
years  labored  in  the  itinerant  field.  He  entered  the  trav- 
eling connection  in  1791,  and  traveled  successively  the  fol- 
lowing circuits :  Milford,  Talbott,  Bethel,  Flanders,  Eliza- 
bethtown,  Cambridge,  Saratoga,  and  JS"ew  London.  He 
then  traveled  as  presiding  elder  four  years  on  Pittsfield 
district  In  1803  he  was  sent  as  a  missionary  to  the 
Western  Reserve,  and  formed  a  circuit  called  Deerfield. 
During  his  second  year  on  this  circuit,  he  married  and 
located.  He  studied  medicine,  and  after  he  had  mastered 
the  science  entered  upon  the  practice.  During  all  the 
time  he  continued  to  preach,  as  circumstances  would  ad- 
mit. He  was  a  most  amiable  man,  and  had  a  lovely  fam- 
ily, beloved  and  respected  by  all.  Such  was  his  piety, 
and  uniform  consistency  of  character,  that  he  won  the 
affection  and  esteem  of  all.  His  letters  breathe  an  ardent 
spirit  of  piety.  I  have  several,  which  I  shall  keep  as  pre- 
cious mementoes  of  affection.  As  David  and  Jonathan,  we 
were  one  in  life,  and  I  trust  in  death  we  shall  not  be 
divided. 

The  young  men  who  volunteered  their  services  to  pro- 
tect us  from  the  rabble,  were  nearly  all  converted  before 
the  meeting  closed. 

The  camp  meeting  for  Steubenville  circuit  commenced 
on  the  twentieth  of  August.  This  was  the  largest  camp 
meeting  we  had  this  year.  On  Sabbath  there  was  such 
an  immense  crowd  of  people,  that  little  could  be  done,  ex- 
cept preach.  Dr.  Doddridge,  an  Episcopal  preacher,  bu* 
wWi  had  once  been  a  Methodist  traveling  preacher,  was  a/ 


296  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

the  meeting,  and  preached  on  Sabbath.  His  speech  be 
trayed  him,  for  it  was  very  evident  to  any  practiced  ob- 
server that  he  had  been  in  Methodist  harness.  He 
preached  with  life  and  power,  and  he  evidently  felt  quite 
at  home.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  many  of  our 
preachers  have  entered  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church. 
I  have  known  quite  a  number  take  the  frock  and  bands. 
Some  who  were  neither  very  learned  or  eloquent,  nor  par- 
ticularly pious,  have  entered  the  "succession,"  and  bet- 
tered their  condition  vastly,  so  far  as  mere  temporalities 
are  concerned ;  and,  instead  of  traveling  circuits,  or  filling 
some  of  the  more  humble  stations  in  the  Methodist  Church, 
have  mounted  at  once  to  the  zenith,  and  fill  the  pulpits  of 
metropolitan  churches.  Verily,  this  is  an  age  of  progress. 
I  knew  an  English  local  preacher,  a  watch-maker,  who, 
after  failing  to  get  into  the  Ohio  conference,  joined  "the 
Church,"  and  at  once  went  up  to  the  highest  pulpit  in  our 
land.  Their  popularity  in  the  Episcopal  Church,  how- 
ever, is  readily  accounted  for.  The  fervor  and  freshness* 
of  the  Methodist  element  will  attract  attention,  and  win 
admiration,  though  buried  in  the  folds  of  the  gown,  or 
the  forms  of  the  Church. 

Great  allowances  are  to  be  made  in  behalf  of  many  of 
our  brethren,  before  whom  loom  up  drearily  in  the  dis- 
tance want  and  poverty;  "for,"  as  Gen.  Harrison  said, 
in  describing  a  traveling  preacher,  "  their  condition  is  just 
the  same  as  though  they  had  taken  the  vow  of  poverty." 
There  are  a  few  exceptions,  however,  to  this  rule.  Some 
Methodist  preachers  I  have  known,  who,  notwithstanding 
their  scanty  allowance,  have  managed,  maneuvered,  and 
speculated  with  such  admirable,  productive  skill  as  to 
amass  property.  But  I  hesitate  not  to  say,  that  the  great 
mass  of  them  live  poor,  die  poor,  and  leave  their  families 
to  the  charities  of  the  Church.  Some  I  know  who  have 
spent  a  fortune  for  the  privilege  of  traveling  circuits,  at  a 


KEV.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  297 

salary  of  twenty-five  dollars  a  year,  while  their  wives 
lived  in  log-cabins,  and  rocked  their  children  in  sugar- 
troughs. 

The  meeting  was  one  of  great  interest.  The  preachers 
seemed  to  have  been  recommissioned  to  preach  the  Gospel. 

The  next  camp  meeting  was  at  West  Wheeling.  This 
was  the  last  of  the  round,  and  finished  the  labors  of  the 
year.  We  were  favored  with  the  presence  of  the  vener- 
able Bishop  M'Kendree,  who  preached  with  more  power 
than  I  had  ever  heard  him  preach  before.  The  work  of 
the  Lord  was  wonderfully  revived,  and  meetings  were 
kept  up  night  and  day,  embracing  all  the  exercises  of 
singing,  exhortation,  and  prayer.  Vast  numbers  were 
awakened  and  converted.  All  were  at  work.  Men,  wo- 
men, and  even  children  spoke  with  new  tongues  and  sung 
new  songs. 

At  the  conference  held  in  Zanesville,  September  3, 
1817,  I  was  reappointed  to  the  Ohio  district,  with  the 
following  brethren:  Beaver  circuit,  Jacob  Hooper  and 
Samuel  Baker;  Erie  circuit,  Ira  Eddy;  Grandview  and 
Mahoning,  D.  D.  Davidson  and  Ezra  Booth;  Chatauque, 
Curtis  Goddard;  Steubenville,  Samuel  Hamilton,  William 
Knox,  and  Calvin  Ruter;  Tuscarawas,  James  M'Mahon; 
Huron,  John  C.  Brooke. 

In  the  true  spirit  of  Gospel  ministers,  these  brethren 
went  to  their  respective  fields  of  labor.  Great  were  the 
toils  and  hardships  they  were  called  to  endure.  The 
winter  was  extremely  severe,  the  cold  being  almost  be- 
yond endurance;  yet  the  Lord  crowned  the  labors  and 
sufferings  of  his  ministers  with  success.  The  country 
was  but  sparsely  settled;  the  rides  were  long  and  roads 
rough;  the  fare  hard  and  provisions  scarce;  but  in  the 
midst  of  all  God  was  with  them.  The  Huron  circuit  was 
the  newest,  and,  consequently,  the  most  difficult  field. 
When    Mr.   Brooke  went   on   to    the    circuit   there   were 


298  AtJTOBlOG£AI»HY    OF 

twenty-five  preaching-places ,  but  he  was  enabled  to  m 
crease  the  number,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  divide  the 
circuit;  and  I  sent  the  Rev.  Alfred  Brunson,  then  a  local 
preacher,  to  the  fire-lands,  or  Huron  port,  for  the  purpose 
of  forming  a  new  circuit.  The  labors  of  a  circuit 
preacher  then  bore  but  little  resemblance  to  the  labors 
of  the  circuit  preacher  now.  To  preach  once  every  day, 
and  lead  class  after  having  traveled  from  ten  to  thirty 
miles,  and  two  or  three  times  on  Sabbath,  and  leading 
class,  with  the  privilege  of  being  home  three  days  out  of 
thirty,  was  somewhat  different  from  having  no  week-day 
appointments,  and  being  able  to  reach  them  from  home 
every  Sabbath  morning,  and  return  again  at  night  a  good 
part  of  the  time.  And  we  rejoice  that  the  labors  have 
decreased,  and  our  churches  have  increased  with  such 
rapidity  as  to  require  such  a  division  of  labor.  Ministers 
now  have  more  time  for  study  and  pastoral  work,  and  a 
man  who,  in  view  of  all  these  facilities,  proves  himself  a 
drone,  had  better  leave  the  work  of  the  Lord  to  more 
faithful  hands. 

On  the  land  of  Dr.  Clark,  near  the  portage,  was  held, 
this  year,  the  first  camp  meeting  that  was  ever  known  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  There  was  quite  a  large  collec- 
tion of  people.  The  brethren  in  attendance  were  M'Ma- 
hon,  Davidson,  Booth,  and  Brooke.  The  word  preached 
was  attended  with  power  to  the  hearts  of  the  hearers 
There  were  many  places  on  this  frontier  circuit  where 
persons  lived  who  had  never  heard  a  sermon,  and,  prob- 
ably, but  for  the  camp  meeting,  never  would  have  heard 
one,  but  would  have  lived  and  died  as  destitute  as  the 
heathen  of  interior  Africa.  Mr.  Howe,  in  his  History  of 
Ohio,  says,  "  The  first  sermon  preached  in  Medina  town- 
ship was  by  an  Episcopal  clergyman ;"  but  it  was  a  fact 
that  Mr.  Brooke  had  preached  there  the  year  before,  and 
had  a  regular  oreaching-place.     This  account  reminds  mo 


KEY.    JAMES    B.    ElNLEY.  299 

of  a  statement  made  by  a  verdant  young  missionary  from 
Princeton,  or  Yale,  some  years  since,  who,  in  describing 
the  moral  desolation  that  reigned  in  the  "far  west" — 
Ohio  and  Indiana — stated  that  there  were,  in  a  certain 
county,  only  two  efficient  ministers  of  the  Gospel  in  a 
population  of  ten  thousand;  that  is,  there  were  two  Pres- 
byterian preachers,  and  they  were  the  only  ones  that  de- 
served the  name,  while  there  were  a  half  dozen  Methodist 
preachers  and  several  of  other  denominations.  Some  de- 
nominations we  wot  of  would  claim  every  thing.  It  has 
been  asserted  that  the  Sabbath  schools  organized  in  this 
country  were  by  Presbyterians  and  Episcopalians,  when 
it  is  a  historical  fact  that,  years  before  their  own  date, 
Bishop  Asbury  and  his  coadjutors  had  established  them. 
So  in  regard  to  temperance.  Old  Dr.  Beecher,  "the 
great  western  missionary,"  as  he  is  called  in  the  east, 
having  penetrated  the  wilderness  as  far  as  Cincinnati,  be- 
comes the  apostle  of  temperance,  when  Methodist  preach- 
ers had  pledged  whole  congregations  to  total  abstinence 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  But 
"transeat,"  and  we  will  persevere,  notwithstanding,  in 
trying  to  do  good.  Whether  it  were  we  or  they,  it  mat- 
ters little,  so  the  work  is  done,  and  our  "efficiency"  will 
be  best  judged  by  posterity. 

An  incident  occurred  illustrative  of  a  certain  class  of 
preachers  of  that  day.  At  a  quarterly  meeting  held  in 
Major  Oaylord's  barn  a  sharp-featured  man  came,  on  Sat- 
urday, and  took  his  seat.  I  was  advised  that  he  was  an 
orthodox  clergyman.  I  tried  to  preach  a  free  grace  ser- 
mon on  Revelation  xxii,  17.  After  I  had  finished  the  dis- 
course I  invited  him  to  come  forward  and  conclude  the 
meeting.  Instead  of  doing  so,  he  rose  up  in  his  place 
and  said,  "  Let  us  pray."  After  congratulating  the  Lord 
on  his  greatness  and  the  power  of  his  righteous  decrees, 
which  never  could  be  altered,  he  began,  in  the  plenitude 


300  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

of  his  benevolence,  to  pray  for  the  poor,  ignorant,  misled 
peopk  and  their  instructors,  informing  the  Lord  that  they 
were  doing  more  harm  than  infidelity  itself  and  hindering 
the  progress  of  the  pure  Gospel.  When  he  was  done,  1 
asked  him,  in  the  presence  of  all  the  people,  who  those 
ignorant,  deluded  people  and  their  instructors  were  to 
whom  he  alluded  in  his  prayer.  He  hesitated.  "Did 
you,"  said  I,  "mean  the  Methodists,  and  their  doctrines?" 
To  all  this  he  answered  nothing.  "Then,"  said  I,  "come 
out  to-morrow,  and  I  will  show  up  the  gross  and  irrecon- 
cilable inconsistencies  and  absurdities  of  unconditional 
election  and  reprobation."  When  the  time  arrived,  there 
was  a  great  crowd.  I  took  the  Saybrook  platform,  and 
read  the  creed,  and  brought  it  to  the  test  of  the  Bible. 
The  whole  audience  was  greatly  excited,  and  when  I 
closed,  the  people  gathered  in  groups  every-where  and  en- 
tered into  controversy,  which  continued  till  the  next  meet- 
ing hour  arrived.  I  then  preached  the  true  doctrine,  that 
Jesus,  by  the  grace  of  God,  had  tasted  death  for  every 
man,  and  that  all  might  be  saved.  This  was  the  begin- 
ning of  a  glorious  revival ;  seventy-five  professed  to  find 
peace  in  believing,  and  the  joys  of  religion.  In  those  days 
the  Calvinists  believed  that  they  were  doing  God  service 
in  attacking  Methodist  preachers,  and  they  would  have 
driven  them  from  the  country,  if  they  could  have  done  it. 
Frequently  I  have  been  attacked  by  two  or  three  at  a 
time.  I  could  invariably  silence  them  by  asking  a  few 
questions. 

The  Lord  was  pleased  to  give  great  success  to  the 
labors  of  the  preachers  on  the  Ohio  district,  this  year,  by 
the  awakening  and  conversion  of  many  precious  souls. 
On  Mahoning  circuit  two  hundred  were  added  to  the 
Churcn.  The  work  commenced  at  a  camp  meeting,  held 
in  Deerfield  m  July,  1818.  During  the  meeting  there 
were  no  perceptible  evidences  of  revival,  tfiough  all  the 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  301 

meetings  were  solemn,  and  the  word  was  preached  in  dem- 
onstration of  the  Spirit  and  power;  but  shortly  after  the 
meeting  closed,  the  bread  which  had  been  cast  upon  the 
waters  began  to  show  itself;  or,  in  other  words,  the  seed 
which  was  sown  sprang  up  and  produced  a  speedy  and 
abundant  harvest.  In  the  course  of  three  months  the  so- 
ciety increased  from  sixteen  to  upward  of  one  hundred. 
Among  the  converted  were  some  of  the  principal  men  of 
the  town — Dr.  J.  Manary,  who  became  a  zealous  minis- 
ter of  the  Gospel,  Judge  Day,  and  many  others  that  1 
might  mention. 

After  the  session  of  conference  in  Steubenville,  I  visited 
this  part  of  the  work,  and  was  astonished  to  find  what 
God  had  wrought  in  Deerfield  and  the  neighboring  towns. 
The  work  spread  like  fire  in  a  prairie,  and  at  every  meet- 
ing victorv  turned  on  Israel's  side.  I  held  a  two  davs 
meeting  in  brother  Manary's  barn,  and  the  work  was  pow- 
erful and  overwhelming.  All  opposition  seemed  to  have 
ceased,  or  was  borne  down  by  the  tide  of  religious  influ- 
ence. The  following  May  I  attended  quarterly  meeting 
in  the  same  place,  and  there  were  at  least  five  hundred 
persons  in  the  barn  at  love-feast.  In  this  meeting  the 
saints  lifted  up  their  voices  in  praise  to  God,  and  the  sighs 
of  penitence,  mingled  with  the  songs  of  joy,  were  grateful 
to  angelic  ears.  Old  Dr.  Bostwick,  of  whom  I  have 
already  made  allusion,  was  present  at  the  meeting,  and 
seemed  as  Moses  on  the  summit  of  Pisgah.  He  saw  by 
faith  the  land  afar  off,  and  with  shoutings  exclaimed,  in 
the  language  of  the  poet, 

"  "lis  grace  that  supports,  or  glory  would  crush  me." 

It  was  supposed  that  at  least  fifty  souls  were  happily  con- 
verted to  God  during  this  meeting. 

On  the  fourth  of  June  a  camp  meeting  commenced  at 
Lexington,  on  Erie  circuit.  All  came  together  m  the 
spirit,  and  the  work   commenced   at   the  first   meeting. 


302  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

The  Divine  influence  kindled  and  spread  in  every  heart 
On  Sabbath  many  were  awakened  to  a  sense  of  their  losi 
condition,  and  were  prompted  to  cry  for  mercy.  The  even 
ing  was  set  apart  for  a  prayer  meeting,  and  many  came 
forward  to  the  mourner's  bench,  and  were  converted  to 
God  by  scores.  Among  the  number  was  a  native  of 
France.  This  poor  old  soldier  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
jad  wandered  out  into  the  western  wilderness,  houseless 
and  homeless,  without  a  knowledge  of  God.  He  had 
stood  in  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  breasted  the  hottest 
fire,  and  heard  the  deafening  roar  of  the  artillery  without 
trembling:  but  when  he  came  to  hear  the  thunders  of  Si- 
nai,  his  lip  quivered,  his  knees  trembled,  and  he  fell  in  the 
battle  of  the  Lord.  After  sueing  for  mercy,  and  crying 
for  quarters  all  night,  it  pleased  God,  at  the  rising  of  the 
sun,  to  pour  upon  him  pardoning  mercy.  No  sooner  had 
neaven  come  down  into  the  heart  of  the  old,  worn,  and 
weary  veteran,  than  he  arose,  and  his  whole  face  beamed 
with  joy.  His  shouts  of  praise,  ascribing  glory  to  King 
Jesus,  were  truly  remarkable.  In  broken  English  he  tried 
to  tell  the  bystanders  what  God  had  done  for  his  soul. 
He  told  them  he  had  eaten  bread  in  three  kingdoms,  and 
that  morning  he  was  eating  bread  in  the  fourth,  even  the 
bread  which  comes  down  from  heaven.  "I  fight,';  said 
he,  "under  de  Emperor  Napoleon,  but  now  me  fight  un- 
der de  Emperor  Jesus.  Vive  le  Emperor  Jesus!"  The 
conversion  of  this  Frenchman  was  so  clear  and  powerful, 
that  infidelity  itself  was  abashed  and  confounded.  Great 
good  was  accomplished  at  this  meeting. 

On  the  tenth  of  June  our  camp  meeting  for  Lake  cir- 
cuit, fourteen  miles  below  Erie,  commenced.  A  camp 
meeting  had  never  been  held  in  these  parts  before,  and 
many  were  induced,  out  of  mere  curiosity,  to  attend  the 
meeting.  The  meeting  commenced  under  favorable  aus- 
pices, and  many  were  awakened  and  converted.    Sabbath, 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  !?03 

however,  was  the  great  day  of  the  feast.  When  the 
preacher  addressed  the  vast  congiegation,  from  Rev.  xx, 
12 — "For  the  dead,  small  and  great,  .shall  stand  before 
God ;  and  the  books  shall  be  opened ;  and  another  book, 
which  is  the  book  of  life;  and  the  dead  shall  be  judged 
according  to  their  works" — there  was  not  one  inattentive 
soul  on  the  ground.  The  whole  congiegation  was  melted 
into  tears,  and  deep  groans,  and  cries  for  mercy  were 
heard,  bursting  forth  from  hearts  convinced  of  sin  and 
judgment.  Occasionally  shouts  of  victory  and  triumph 
were  heard  from  the  pious,  who  waited  the  happy  change. 
The  evening  was  devoted  to  praying  and  laboring  with 
mourners.  After  the  ring  was  formed,  and  we  commenced 
our  address  to  the  throne  of  grace,  the  Holy  Spirit  fell  on 
us,  and  multitudes  within  and  without  the  ring  fell  un- 
der the  shocks  of  Divine  power.  Many  mariners  from 
the  port  of  Erie  were  there,  and  some  of  them  became 
the  subjects  of  awakening  grace.  I  heard  one  say  to  the 
sheriff,  "Mr.  B.  is  down,  crying  for  mercy."  To  this  he 
replied,  "If  the  Methodists  can  make  him  a  better  man, 
it  is  more  than  the  commonwealth  of  Pennsylvania  can 
do,  for  he  has  been  in  nearly  all  the  prisons  of  the  state." 
This  called  my  attention  to  Mr.  B.,  whom  I  found  in  great 
distress,  earnestly  seeking  the  salvation  of  his  soul.  1 
gave  him  all  the  instruction  I  could,  and  soon  the  light  of 
heaven  broke  on  him,  and  the  Sun  of  righteousness  arose 
with  healing  in  its  beams.  He  was  soundly  converted, 
and  what  tines  and  imprisonments  could  not  accomplish, 
the  grace  of  God  amply  secured.  He  lived  and  died  a 
good  man. 

Of  the  multitudes  slain  on  that  evening,  many  weit 
made  alive  by  the  power  of  God. 

From  this  camp  meeting  I  passed  to  the  Chatauque  cir- 
cuit, and  commenced  a  camp  meeting  on  Broken  Straw,  a 
branch  of  the  Alleghany,  June  the   18th.     At  the  com- 


304  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

mencement  of  this  meeting  I  was  much  discouraged,  buf 
the  Lord  was  greater  to  me  than  all  my  fears ;  and  nevej 
did  I  have  a  more  clear  and  satisfactory  demonstration  ot 
the  fact  that  man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity.  Sab- 
bath morning  arrived,  and  as  the  sun  was  gilding  the  east- 
ern sky,  the  trumpet  called  us  to  the  concert  of  prayer. 
While  we  were  looking  up  to  heaven  for  a  blessing,  God 
graciously  poured  out  his  Spirit,  and  we  realized  the  open- 
ing of  the  gates  of  life.  Preparatory  to  preaching,  1 
walked  out  into  the  wilderness,  or,  rather,  desert,  for  the 
ground  was  covered  with  rocks,  for  the  purpose  of  medi- 
tation. While  reclining  among  the  rocks  and  fern,  which 
grew  in  great  abundance,  I  heard  a  sound  which,  to  the 
practiced  ear,  carries  more  terror  perhaps  than  any  other. 
It  was  the  rattle  of  death.  The  weather  being  exceedingly 
warm,  I  had  taken  off  my  shoes  and  stockings,  and  my 
feet  being  somewhat  elevated,  exposed  my  legs.  Looking 
in  the  direction  of  the  alarm,  I  saw  the  glaring  eyes  and 
forked  tongue  of  the  Americana  horribilis,  within  a  foot  or 
two  of  me.  It  was  coiled,  and  ready  for  a  strike.  The 
great  Creator  has  so  formed  this  dreadful  creature  that  it 
can  not  strike  without  warning,  and  this  doubtless  saved 
my  life,  as  it  has  the  life  of  thousands.  Seeing  my  dan- 
ger, I  instantly  sprang,  and,  with  one  bound,  was  far  be- 
yond the  reach  of  its  deadly  fangs.  After  dispatching  the 
rattlesnake,  I  returned  to  the  camp,  thankful  to  God  for 
deliverance. 

During  the  day  the  work  of  the  Lord  went  on  with 
power,  and  many  were  saved  by  the  regenerating  grace 
of  God.  Monday  morning  we  held  a  solemn  communion, 
and  I  think  it  was  the  most  glorious  season  I  ever  beheld, 
The  most  hardened  sinners  trembled  and  wept,  and  looked 
on  while  the  followers  of  Him  who,  in  Gethsemane  and  on 
Calvary,  drank  the  bitter  cup,  were  commemorating  his 
dying  love. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  305 

I  held  three  camp  meetings  this  year  before  conference, 
at  which  many  were  born  into  the  kingdom,  and  made  the 
happy  partakers  of  saving  grace.  All  the  preachers, 
traveling  and  local,  were  at  their  posts,  and  labored  with 
zeal  and  fidelity.  Ira  Eddy  was  recommended  as  a  suita- 
ble person  to  be  received  into  the  traveling  connection, 
and  he  was  received. 

Some  remarkable  incidents  occurred  at  this  camp  meet- 
ing, two  of  which  I  will  relate. 

Two  men  from  different  parts  of  the  country,  with  theii 
companies,  came  to  the  meeting  with  the  avowed  purpose 
of  disturbing  the  people  of  God  in  their  worship.  One  of 
these  men  was  from  the  mouth  of  the  Chatauque  Lake,  and 
the  other  from  the  Alleghany  river.     The   former,  Capt. 

W x,   brought  with  him  a  supply  of  whisky.     Both 

these  men  came  into  the  congregation  and  took  their  seats. 
While  the  minister  was  preaching,  the  Holy  Spirit  attended 
the  word,  and  Capt.  W.  was  smitten,  like  Elymas,  the  sor- 
cerer, with  blindness.  An  awful  feeling  came  over  him 
as  the  horror  of  darkness  surrounded  him.  He  felt  as  if 
God  was  about  to  call  him  to  judgment;  and  although  he 
had  been  a  Universalist,  and  had  tried  to  believe  and  teach 
others  the  delusive  doctrines,  yet  he  now  felt  himself 
hanging  over  the  fearful  gulf,  and  nothing  but  life's  brittle 
thread  kept  him  from  dropping  into  perdition.  He  after- 
ward remarked  that  his  feelings  were  awful  beyond  de- 
scription. After  some  time  his  sight  returned,  and  he 
arose  and  left  the  congregation.  Notwithstanding  his 
conviction,  his  stubborn  heart  was  unwilling  to  yield,  and 
obstinately  persisting  in  the  rejection  of  mercy,  he  resolved 
to  seek  oblivion  in  the  cup. 

But  the  most  potential  draughts  of  the  maddening  poi- 
son could  not  obliterate  the  traces  of  the  Spirit's  convic- 
tion from  his  heart.  Soon,  with  redoubled  force,  the 
pcwer  of  God  again  came  down  upon  his  sin-smitten 
20 


306  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

soul.  Unable  to  bear  the  deep  and  utter  wretchedness 
which  drank  up  his  spirits,  he  resolved,  if  God  did  not 
kill  him,  to  return  home.  While  on  his  way  home  the 
constraining  Spirit  of  God  operated  so  powerfully,  that  he 
was  forced  to  cry  out  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul  for 
mercy.  He  did  not  reach  home  till  some  time  in  the  night; 
and  when  he  did  arrive,  his  family  were  much  alarmed. 
No  sooner  did  he  enter  the  house  than  he  fell  upon  his 
knees,  and  continued  his  cries  for  mercy.  The  alarm  was 
so  great  that  the  whole  neighborhood  was  soon  collected 
together.  All  night  that  man  cried  to  God,  and  just  as 
the  gray  streaks  of  morning  were  breaking  out  from  the 
chambers  of  the  east,  the  Lord  in  mercy  spoke  peace  to 
his  soul.  His  family,  and  many  of  the  neighbors,  were 
convicted,  and  the  result  was,  the  conversion  of  thirty  in 
that  neighborhood,  whom  I  subsequently  organized  into  a 
class,  and  made  the  Captain's  house  a  preaching-place. 

The  other,  W.  N.,  was  powerfully  awakened  on  Sab- 
bath, and  being  unable  to  withstand  the  powerful  influence, 
he  fled  for  his  home.  Just  before  reaching  the  door  of 
his  habitation,  he  was  struck  down  by  the  power  of  God, 
and  was  carried  into  the  house  by  some  of  the  family. 
Soon  the  alarm  spread,  the  neighbors  were  collected,  and  a 
messenger  was  dispatched  to  the  camp-ground,  a  distance 
of  nine  miles.  Two  or  three  brethren  went  to  the  house, 
and  found  him  in  a  convulsed  and  speechless  state.  Soon 
after  their  arrival,  he  seemed  to  awake  to  consciousness, 
and  exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice,  "0,  hell!  hell!  hell!" 
He  then  fell  away  into  the  same  unconscious  state.  His 
countenance  bore  all  the  deep-marked  traces  of  despair. 
The  brethren  sang  and  prayed  alternately,  and  those  who 
watched  his  features  could  discover  the  deep  emotions  of 
his  soul.  At  times  a  faint  ray  of  light  would  kindle  on 
his  cheek,  but  soon  it  was  gone,  and  like  the  lightning 
from  a  stormy  cloud,  which  shocks  the  soul  and  disappears 


ItEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  307 

in  darkness,  it  only  rendered  his  features  more  gloomy 
It  seemed  as  if  despair  would  settle  down  sullenly  upon 
him.  After  hours  of  religious  exercise,  such  as  singing 
and  prayer,  deep,  agonizing  prayer  to  God  in  behalf  of 
uie  struggling  soul,  all  at  once  the  dark  cloud  passed 
away,  his  countenance  was  lighted  up  with  an  unearthly 
radiance,  and  opening  his  eyes  he  exclaimed,  "0,  heaven! 
heaven !  heaven  !"  Then  springing  to  his  feet  he  shouted. 
*' Glory  !  glory!  glory!"  Many  were  awakened  and  con- 
verted in  this  house.  He  related  the  exercises  of  his 
mind,  during  his  unconscious  state,  afterward.  He  said 
his  mind  was  as  bright  and  clear  as  ever  it  was ;  that  he 
distinctly  saw  hell  and  its  miseries.  He  felt  he  was 
doomed;  but  just  as  hope  was  leaving  him,  he  saw  the 
Savior  pleading  for  him.  During  this  plea  he  said  his 
suspense  was  awful  beyond  expression;  but  when  it  was 
ended,  and  mercy  obtained,  he  saw  heaven  and  glory  open 
upon  him. 

This  vear  five  brethren  were  admitted  into  the  traveling 
connection ;  namely,  Samuel  Adams,  Samuel  Brockunier, 
Edward  Taylor,  James  Smith,  and  Dennis  Goddard.  Con- 
ference was  held  at  Steubenville,  and,  being  the  presiding 
elder,  it  became  my  duty,  with  the  preachers  of  the  cir- 
cuit, to  find  places  for  the  preachers  during  the  session. 
A  request  was  handed  to  me  by  one  of  the  stewards,  from 
a  gentleman  of  wealth,  that  I  would  send  him  one  of  our 
most  talented  ministers,  and  he  would  cheerfully  keep  him 
during  conference.  The  gentleman  was  a  member  of  the 
Episcopal  Church,  and  had  a  worthy  family,  rather  more 
than  ordinarily  refined,  and  enjoying  all  such  elegancies 
of  life  as  a  country  village  would  afford.  Wishing  to 
gratify  him,  I  sent  Russel  Bigelow  to  be  his  guest.  £sow, 
Russel  was  dressed  in  plain,  homespun  apparel,  cut  and 
made  with  as  much  skill  as  home  could  furnish.  It  was 
not  exactly  that  a  la  mode  which  suits  fashionable  life 


308  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

The  young  miss  in  the  parlor  cast  many  side-long  glances 
at  the  young  preacher,  who  diffidently  sat  composing  his 
features,  and  gazing  upon  the  various  objects  around  him. 

Masting  the  steward,  Mr. said,  "I  do  not  think  you 

have  treated  me  right  in  sending  me  such  a  common, 
homespun^ooking  man."     At  this  the  steward  came  to 

me   in   great   haste,    saying    Mr.   was    displeased. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "his  request  has  been  complied  with;  he 
asked  for  a  talented  man,  and  I  sent  him  the  most  talented 
man  we  have.-  Go  and  tell  him  that  I  wish  him  and  his 
family  to  go  out  to  the  Presbyterian  church  to-morrow 
and  hear  him  preach,  and  then  if  they  are  dissatisfied,  I 
will  remove  him." 

Sabbath  came.  The  minister  in  homespun  ascended 
the  desk;    all  eyes  were  upon  him.      "How  finely  he 

reads!"  says  .     "What  distinct  articulation!"  said 

Mr. to  his  lady,  as  they  sat  in  the  pew.     "Deai 

me,"  said  the  daughter,  "how  beautifully  our  country 
preacher  reads  poetry !"  Then  followed  his  prayer;  and 
when,  with  warm  heart,  he  prayed  for  the  families  whc 
had  with  generous  hospitality  thrown  open  their  houses 
for  the  entertainment  of  God's  servants,  the  silent  tear 
and  half-suppressed  sigh  told  of  his  power  over  the 
heart. 

He  preached,  and  it  was  only  as  Russel  Bigelow,  of 
sainted  memory,  could  preach.  Indeed,  it  is  said  he  ex- 
ceeded himself  on  that  occasion.  The  effect  upon  the 
hearers  was  powerful,  and  upon  none  more  so  than  his 
worthy  host  and  family,  who  took  him  home,  and  sent  for 
me  to  ask  my  pardon,  remarking  that  he  had  never  lieard 
such  a  sermon  in  all  his  life.  He  said  to  the  steward  on 
Monday,  "Why  do  you  not  keep  your  ministers  better 
clothed  ?  You  ought  not  to  have  a  man  of  such  talents 
as  Mr.  Bigelow."  That  day  he  ordered  for  him  a  fin» 
suit  of  clothes. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY  309 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BACKWOODS     PREACHERS. 

The  following  graphic  description  of  backwoods  preach- 
ers, furnished  me  by  a  friend,  serves  not  only  to  illustrate 
the  manner  in  which  many  preachers  were  manufactured 
in  early  days,  but  will  convey  some  idea  of  their  character 
and  talents : 

A  Presbytery  of  the  Cumberland  Church  had  assem- 
bled in  one  of  the  valleys  of  the  Cumberland  range.  It 
was  a  season  of  spiritual  drought,  and  the  Churches  had 
suffered  from  famine.  The  members  of  the  ecclesiastical 
body  then  collected  in  their  semi-annual  convocation  were 
mostly  weather-beaten  veterans — men  who  had  braved 
the  earlier  difficulties  of  the  denomination  to  which  they 
were  attached,  when,  about  twenty  years  before,  it  had 
seceded  from  the  parent  stock,  to  erect  a  banner  in  Zion 
with  a  new  device.  They  were  in  all  about  twenty  per- 
sons, of  whom  a  little  more  than  half  were  preachers,  the 
rest  ruling  elders  of  congregations,  who  were  there  to 
represent  the  local  interests  of  the  Church  sessions. 

This  meeting  was  at  a  solemn  crisis ;  for  the  Church 
was  troubled,  and  the  way  before  her  was  shrouded  in 
darkness.  The  love  of  many  had  waxed  cold.  Defec- 
tions had  occurred.  Some  who  were  once  masters  in 
Israel  had  withdrawn,  carrying  off  weighty  influence  and 
leaving  perplexities  behind. 

Others  were  threatening  to  dissolve  the  Church  unless 
radical  changes  were  made  in  doctrines  and  polity. 
Alarming  coldness  prevailed  in  regard  to  candidates  foj 


310  AUTOBlOGit  A.PIIY    OF 

the  ministry,  none  having  offered  for  several  sessions,  and 
those  already  in  charge  giving  but  little  evidence  of  a 
disposition  to  advance  or  an  ability  to  labor  in  the  work 
which  they  had  professed  to  love.  Presbytery,  however, 
was  unusually  full,  nearly  every  Church  session  being 
represented,  and  not  one  of  the  ordained  ministers  absent. 
The  deliberations  were  opened,  as  usual,  with  prayer  by 
the  moderator,  an  aged  servant  of  God ;  and  it  was  ob- 
served by  those  skilled  in  such  things,  that  there  was 
great  liberty  given  him  when  he  entreated  "  that  the  God 
of  the  harvest,  in  infinite  mercy,  would  send  more  labor- 
ers into  his  harvest." 

The  usual  formalities  being  ended,  the  opening  sermon 
was  preached  by  the  same  person.  His  subject  compre- 
hended the  character  and  importance  of  a  call  to  the 
Gospel  ministry,  and  was  treated  with  much  earnestness. 
The  morning  hour  being  ended,  the  body  adjourned  to 
early  candle-lighting.  A  considerable  crowd  had  assem- 
bled upon  this  novel  occasion,  and  it  was  under  their  hos- 
pitable roofs  that  the  members  found  welcome  reception. 
Few,  indeed,  of  the  mountain  cabins  in  the  vicinity  but 
what  received  one  or  more  upon  that  occasion,  glad  to  be 
permitted  to  talk  of  the  Savior  to  those  who  rarely  had 
such  opportunities  of  hearing  the  Gospel.  Night  brought 
them  all  back  ao-ain  to  the  house  of  eratheringr.  It  was  a 
singularly  wild  and  startling  scene  to  one  who  has  not 
mixed  in  the  different  phases  of  frontier  life.  The  build- 
ing in  which  the  meeting  was  held  was  a  plain  log-cabin, 
the  dwelling  of  one  of  the  elders,  and  only  selected  on 
account  of  its  being  the  largest  in  the  vicinity.  There 
were  the  beds  and  the  furniture  of  the  whole  family,  nc 
unprolific  one  at  that,  stowed  around  a  room  but  twenty 
feet  square. 

Upon  those  beds,  and  upon  seats  made  by  laying  split 
puncheons  upon  cross  logs,  was  seated  the  company  of 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  3ll 

men,  women,  and  children,  ministers,  delegates,  and  all, 
each  glad  to  endure  a  process  of  compression  for  a  few 
hours,  in  the  expectation  of  an  intellectual  reward. 

It  had  been  before  arranged  that  this  night's  meeting 
should  be  devoted  to  candidates  for  the  ministry.  A  call 
was,  therefore,  made  "to  all  who  had  felt  impressions  to 
preach  to  come  forward  and  converse  with  Presbytery  on 
the  subject."  Every  one  must  undergo  this  peculiar 
ordeal  who  inclines  to  enter  the  ministry;  and  there  are 
no  traditions  in  the  Church  more  entertaining  than  those 
which  tell  how  the  ministers  who  are  now  burning  and 
shining  lights  made  their  first  awkward  and  unpromising 
exhibit  before  Presbytery. 

The  call  being  made  by  the  presiding  officer,  three  per- 
sons arose  to  their  feet.  Of  the  first  and  second  it  will 
be  unnecessary  here  to  speak.  The  third  had  stood  partly 
concealed  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  room,  while  the  others 
were  relating  the  particulars  which  induced  the  Presby- 
tery to  accept  them  as  probationers ;  but  now  he  stepped 
forward  and  faced  the  moderator.  His  appearance  ex- 
cited a  universal  start  of  surprise  even  among  that  unso- 
phisticated audience,  accustomed  to  great  peculiarities  of 
Iress  and  rudeness  of  manner.  Let  the  reader  imagine 
x  person  dressed  in  what  is  styled  copperas  cloth;  that  is. 
a  cloth  home-spun,  home-woven,  home-cut,  and  home- 
sewed,  dyed  in  that  bilious  hue  which  is  formed  by  cop- 
peras, alum,  and  walnut  bark,  and  made  into  coat,  vest, 
and  breeches. 

To  this  add  brogans  of  home -tanned,  red  leather,  tied 
with  a  leather  thoncj,  covering  immense  feet,  made — both 
feet  and  brogans — for  climbing  hills,  and  you  have  the 
portrait  of  a  mountain  boy;  able  at  full  run  to  scale  a 
bluff,  to  live  upon  the  proceeds  of  his  rifle  for  support, 
und  to  whip  any  lowland  fellow  in  the  state.  Such  was 
ihe  person  who  left  his  dark  corner  and  came  into  the  fujj 


312  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

blaze  of  the  pine-knot  fire.  He  was  weeping  bitterly 
and,  having  no  handkerchief,  the  primitive  arrangement 
for  such  cases  provided  was  necessarily  adopted.  He 
stood  silent  for  a  minute,  every  beholder  awaiting  with 
intense  curiosity  the  announcement  of  his  business,  then, 
clearing   his   throat,   commenced,   "  I've    come  to   Pres- 

by ,"  but  a  new  flood  of  tears  impeded  his  efforts 

to  speak.  The  moderator  kindly  remarked,  "And  what 
did  you  came  to  Presbytery  for,  my  good  friend  ?  Take 
your  own  time  and  tell  us  all  about  it ;  don't  be  alarmed ; 
be  seated;  nobody  will  hurt  you.  Come,  now,  tell  us 
what  you  come  to  Presbytery  for."  The  stranger  was 
emboldened  by  this  to  commence  again,  even  the  third 
and  fourth  time,  but  could  never  proceed  further  than 

"Pve  come  to  Presby ,"  and  the  storm  of  his  soul 

prevailed. 

Here  one  of  the  members  suggested  that  he  had  better 
retire  with  some  one,  and  communicate  his  wishes  pri- 
vately; for  as  yet  no  person  imagined  his  true  errand, 
but  rather  supposed  that  he  was  laboring  under  some 
spiritual  difficulty,  which  he  would  needs  have  settled  by 
the  meeting.  But  to  this  hint  he  resolutely  demurred, 
replying  "that  he'd  get  his  voice  d'reckly,  please  God;" 
and  so  he  did;  and  he  rose  up,  straightening  his  gaunt, 
awkward  form,  and  then  such  words  as  passed  his  lips 
had  never  before  rung  through  that  assembly. 

I  shall  not  attempt — nor  could  I  do  it,  for  want  of  a 
report — to  quote  his  own  words ;  but  the  oldest  minister 
present  declared,  years  afterward,  that  they  scorched  and 
ournt  wherever  they  fell.  A  sketch  of  his  subject  will  be 
sufficient  here.  It  seems  that  he  had  lived  all  his  days 
in  ignorance  and  sin,  without  an  hour's  schooling,  with 
out  any  training  either  for  this  world  or  the  next,  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  humanity,  having 
sprung  up  like  one  of  the  cedars  on  nis  own  mountains, 


REV.   JAMES    fc.    FINLEY.  31b 

and  with  as  little  cultivation.  Thus  he  had  passed  more 
than  twenty  years,  laboring  in  a  humble  way  for  support, 
and  at  times  pursuing  the  pleasures  and  profits  of  the 
chase, 
t  A  few  months  back  he  had  accidentally  fallen  in  with 
a  traveling  preacher,  who  had  lost  his  way  among  th<? 
mountains,  and,  by  several  miles'  travel,  had  put  him  ir« 
the  right  track. 

The  minister,  interested  at  the  oddity  of  his  appearance 
and  his  intense  ignorance  of  every  thing  religious,  devoted 
the  hour  to  a  sketch  of  this  world's  condition,  buried  in 
sin,  his  own  perilous  state,  and  the  value  of  his  immortal 
soul,  and  concluded  by  kneeling  with  him,  at  the  root  of 
a  tree,  and  pleading  with  God  for  his  spiritual  regenera- 
tion. They  parted,  and  met  no  more,  but  the  influence 
of  that  meeting  parted  not.  The  Spirit  which  dictated  the 
good  man's  effort,  abode  henceforward  in  the  temple  of 
his  heart.  A  voice  began  to  whisper  in  his  ears,  "  Re- 
pent, repent;  why  will  ye  die?"  A  load,  a  weight  of 
mountains,  pressed  upon  his  soul.  Sleep  forsook  his  eye- 
lids. His  ax  rusted  by  the  pile;  his  rifle  hung,  dust- 
covered,  on  the  wall. 

The  simple-hearted  neighbors,  ignorant  as  himself,  pro- 
nounced him  deranged;  the  younger  portion  called  it 
love ;  a  few,  not  slanderous,  but  suspicious,  thought,  in  a 
private  way,  it  might  be  liquor.  The  man  himself  sought 
religious  meetings,  but  they  were  few  and  distant,  and  he 
heard  no  echo  to  the  voice  within  him,  and  he  still 
returned  hungry  and  dissatisfied. 

The  people  of  a  certain  town  will  not  soon  forget  the 
apparition  of  that  awkward  and  ill-dressed  man  who  vis- 
ited their  churches,  to  plant  himself  in  front  of  the  pul- 
pit, and  to  listen  to  the  exercises  with  all  that  attention 
which  the  criminal  upon  the  gallows  bestows  upon  the  dis- 
rant  horseman,  who,  perhaps,  brings  him  tne  expected 
27 


31-t  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

reprieve.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  camp  meeting  fervof 
that  he  at  last  found  peace ;  and  there  his  frantic  ejacula- 
tion, "J've  got  it,  I've  got  it!"  was  like  the  world  wide 
Eureka  of  the  Syracusan,  when  his  grand  discovery  first 
electrified  his  own  breast. 

Then  he  came  home  to  tell  his  neighbors  what  the  Lord 
had  done  for  his  soul.  Forsaking  all  other  duties,  he 
wandered  from  cabin  to  cabin,  and,  wherever  he  found  a 
hearer,  he  called  upon  him  to  forsake  his  sins.  His  ardor 
increased  every  day. 

Soon  his  rude  but  forcible  illustrations  began  to  tell 
upon  the  hearts  of  those  simple  mountaineers,  as  the 
words  of  a  second  John  Baptist,  crying  out,  "  Prepare  ye 
the  way  of  the  Lord,  make  his  paths  straight." 

And  yet  he  seemed  to  have  no  idea  that  he  was  called 
to  preach.  Such  thought  as  that  of  entering  the  ministry 
did  not  enter  his  breast.  Although  his  heart  overflowed 
with  the  one  subject,  and  he  declared  his  determination 
to  speak  that  subject  to  others,  so  long  as  he  lived,  yet  it 
was  only  as  a  friend  counsels  friend  that  he  expected  to 
do  it — no  more.  How  could  he  become  a  preacher?  He 
couldn't  read  a  hymn  or  a  text;  he  hadn't  means  to  buy 
decent  clothing,  or  pay  for  a  session's  schooling.  But  he 
was  guided  right,  for  he  fell  in  with  a  gentleman  who  was 
botanizing  among  his  native  hills,  and  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  spend  a  Sabbath  in  his  company.  This  man,  a 
profound  observer  of  human  nature,  and  a  friend  of  his 
species,  was  struck  with  the  peculiarities  of  the  case,  and, 
although  no  professor  in  a  religious  way,  yet  he  felt  con- 
vinced that  the  hand  of  might  was  here.  He,  therefore, 
advised  him  to  apply  to  some  religious  association,  before 
which  he  could  lay  open  his  heart,  and  le  understood. 

The  results  of  this  counsel  we  have  seen  in  his  coming 
*o  Presbytery,  and  presenting  himself,  a  stranger  to  ail,  m 
the  manner  before  described.     Th*i3  historv,  much  elabo- 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY,  315 

*ated,  he  gave  out  with  a  volubility  that  took   away  the 
breath. 

The  pine  fire  blazed  low;  the  dipped  and  shapeless  can- 
dles simmered  themselves  into  torrents,  unobserved  by  the 
hearers,  while  all  sat  spell-bound  at  the  recital.  With  un- 
couth gestures,  words  barbarous  as  the  African's,  alter- 
nately crying  and  laughing,  as  he  wandered  from  his  first 
agony  to  his  final  triumph,  and  shouting  till  his  voice  rang 
back  from  the  hill-side,  the  mountain  boy  enchained  each 
heart,  till  its  very  pulsations  might  be  heard.  There  was 
not  a  dry  eye  in  the  assembly.  The  gray-haired  mode- 
rator sobbed  aloud.  The  more  excitable  joined,  from  time 
to  time,  in  his  shouts,  as  the  words  of  victory  rung  in 
their  ears ;  and  when,  after  a  sentence  of  great  length,  he 
declared  that  "glory  was  begun  in  his  heart,"  and  that 
"  God  alone  had  done  this  work  within  him,"  not  one  who 
was  experienced  in  such  announcements  but  declared  his 
conviction  that  it  was  even  so — the  hand  of  God  was 
there. 

A  brief  consultation  ensued,  and  then,  by  general  con- 
sent, George  Willets  was  duly  received  as  a  candidate  for 
the  holy  ministry.  The  next  event  in  his  history  will 
carry  us  more  than  ten  years  forward. 

Much  may  be  said  about  camp  meetings,  but,  take  them 
all  in  all,  for  practical  exhibition  of  religion,  for  unbounded 
hospitality  to  strangers,  for  unfeigned  and  fervent  spiritu- 
ality, give  me  a  country  camp  meeting  against  the  world. 
It  was  not  many  years  ago  that  I  was  traversing  the 
hills  in  that  vicinity  in  search  of  some  rare  specimens  of 
rrinoids,  that  could  only  be  found  thereabouts.  My  waliet 
hung  heavily  by  my  side — for  the  crinoidea  abound  all 
through  that  range — and  my  steps  were  perceptibly  short- 
ening as  I  toiled  up  the  hill  which  separated  me  from  m\ 
boarding-house,  when  I  was  overtaken  by  a  horseman, 
who,  as  soon  as  he  approached  abreast  of  me,  dismounted 


S16  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

without  a  question,  and  asked  me  to  ride  and  He  with  Lini. 
The  proposition  was  so  bluntly  made  as  to  leave  out  all 
possibility  of  refusal,  and  I  at  once  acceded  to  his  request. 
On  we  jogged  together,  and  before  I  knew  what  I  was 
about,  I  found  myself  giving  him  a  somewhat  tedious 
report  of  my  day's  labor,  even  to  the  preciseness  of  spec- 
ifying the  peculiar  species  gathered. 

He  heard  me  patiently  through — I  laugh  at  myself  now 
when  I  think  of  it — and  then,  with  the  most  singular  earn- 
estness, inquired  if  I  thought  such  labor  redounded  to  the 
glory  of  God  !     Although  taken  all  aback,  as  the  sailors 
say,  by  the  oddity  of  the  association,  yet  I  was  not  ill- 
read  in  the  arguments  of  Buckland,  Silliman,  and  Paley, 
and  I  replied  that  divines  of  the  greatest  eminence  con- 
sider the  study  of  nature  as  the  study  of  the  first  revela- 
tion of  God.     He  was  struck  with  the  remark,  hackneyed 
as  it  was,  and  labored  to  draw  me  further  out;  but,  feel- 
ing some  diffidence  upon  this  branch  of  my  profession,  1 
declined  further  debate,  and  changed  the  handle  of  the 
conversation  into  his  hand.     He  took  it,  and  it  was  then 
all  about  Jesus  Christ  and  his  religion,  and  how  much 
that  religion  is  needed  in  the  world,  and  how  well  every 
kind  of  talent  fits  in  the  spiritual  temple  not  made  with 
hands,    and    a   great   deal   more    to   the    same    purpose. 
Arriving  in  sight  of  my  boarding-house,   he  asked  me, 
in  a  most  humble  and  winning  tone,  if  I  would  join  him 
in  a  wayside  prayer;  and  as  I  could  not,  for  the  life  of 
me,  refuse,  we  kneeled  together,  and  he  prayed  for  the 
"learned  and  interesting  stranger, "  that  he  might  be  led 
to  the  foot  of  the  cross  in  an  early  day,  and  find,  with  a 
vision  sharpened  by  faith,  that  the  "revelation  of  grace" 
far  exceeds  the  "revelation  of  nature"  in  its  displays  of 
the  wisdom,  power,  and  love  of  God.     We  parted  tLen, 
neither   having   inquired  the  name  or  residence  of  the 
other. 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  3l7 

A  few  days  afterward  the  Bethel  camp  meeting  com 
inenced,  and  I  did  not  fail  to  be  there.  I  arrived  just 
before  sundown  Saturday  evening,  and  before  any  relig- 
ious excitement  had  commenced.  The  meeting  opened, 
as  usual,  on  Friday  by  a  sermon  at  night.  On  the  next 
day  the  custom  requires  a  morning  sermon,  and  another 
at  candle-light,  while  upon  the  Sabbath  not  less  than 
three  are  expected  by  the  crowded  audiences  that  cover 
the  camp-ground  on  that  day. 

The  scene,  as  I  approached  it,  was  highly  interesting, 
and  my  note-books  are  crammed,  page  after  page,  with 
memoranda  that  fairly  sparkle  with  such  leaders  as — 
vivid — rare — contrast  of  colors — clear  heavens — solemnity, 
etc.;  but  it  has  been  better  described  in  the  series  styled, 
'  Needles  from  my  Needle-Book,"  in  M'Makin's  Courier, 
than  I  could  do  it ;  so  I  desist.  As  I  rode  up  I  was  met  ai 
the  gate  of  the  camp-ground  by  a  crowd,  black  and  white, 
who  asked  the  privilege  to  entertain  me  and  my  horse, 
with  as  much  earnestness  as  hack-drivers  on  a  steamboat 
wharf.  Resigning  myself  to  one  with  whom  I  had  some 
previous  acquaintance,  I  took  a  lounge  with  him  around 
the  inclosure,  and  then  it  was  time  for  supper.  This 
bounteous  meal  is  of  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  being 
mainly  composed  of  hog-meat — pardon  the  title;  we  see 
no  vulgarity  in  it  here — in  all  shapes  of  cookery,  mutton, 
beef,  and  hecatombs  of  cold  chickens.  The  sermon  was 
preached  by  a  third-rate  man,  all  the  heavy  caliber  being 
reserved  for  next  day.  The  same  choice  was  made  for 
the  eight  o'clock  sermon  the  next  morning.  There  is  a 
cant  phrase  used  in  dividing  our  camp  meeting  preachers  * 
namely,  eight  tf  clocks  and  eleven  o?  clocks,  the  latter  being 
the  intellectual  Sampsons  of  the  occasion.  Long  before 
the  latter  hour,  I  had  seated  myself  at  a  convenient  point 
to  see  and  hear — to  see  the  audience  and  hear  the  preacher. 

The  blowing  of  the  horn  called  every  one,  young  and 


318  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

old,  to  the  stand,  and  by  their  eagerness  it  was  plain  thai 
something  was  expected  beyond  the  ordinary ;  and  I  con- 
gratulated  myself  upon  having  secured  so  favorable  a 
location,  to  gain  the  full  advantage  of  it.  I  should  have 
observed  that  this  location  was  directly  under  the  pulpit, 
leaning,  in  fact,  against  it,  and  I  was,  of  course,  debarred 
from  seeing  the  countenance  of  the  speaker.  There  is 
some  little  awkwardness,  too,  connected  with  that  particu- 
lar seat,  for  if  the  minister  chance  to  prove  a  pulpit- 
thumper,  as  many  do,  you  might  be  suddenly  aroused  by 
the  fall  of  a  pitcher  of  water,  or  the  big  Bible,  upon  your 
cranium,  as  I  have  more  than  once  beheld  it. 

The  opening  services,  which  are  usually  short  at  camp 
meetings,  were  soon  passed  over,  for  it  is  plain  that  this 
class  of  preachers  look  upon  them  as  lightly  as  Napoleon 
estimated  the  Tirailleur  service,  and  they  hasten  up  the 
artillery. 

The  text  was  announced  in  a  voice  that  I  immediately 
recognized  as  that  of  my  traveling  friend  of  a  few  days 
previous.  I  rejoiced  at  the  omen.  His  subject  of  dis- 
course was  embraced  in  the  single  word  "  Consider,"  and 
led  off  by  the  odd  remark,  that  if  we  would  read  the  Bi- 
ble diligently  we  could  find  it  there,  so  he  thought  it  un- 
necessary to  point  out  chapter  and  verse !  It  is  immate- 
rial for  me  to  follow  him  through  his  divisions  and  exhi- 
bitions of  the  subject.  My  purpose  is  simply  to  show 
what  the  mountain  preacher-boy,  for  it  was  he,  had  done 
with  himself  in  ten  years,  during  which  he  had  been  de- 
voted to  the  calling  of  a  minister.  His  first  half  year  had 
been  spent  in  school,  and  although  his  educational  prog 
ress  had  hardly  been  such  as  his  friends  anticipated,  yet 
by  preaching  nights  and  Sundays,  and  exhorting  ail  the 
time,  he  had  got  up  a  revival  of  religion  in  the  school 
which  swept  like  wildfire,  and  brought  in  scores  to  the 
fold  of  the  Church. 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  319 

At  the  next  Presbytery  he  came  up  to  beg  leave  to  oc- 
cupy a  circuit,  and  despite  of  his  limited  acquirements — 
for  as  yet  he  could  barely  read  a  text  or  write  a  copy — 
that  body  had  regard  to  the  peculiarities  of  his  cas<3,  and 
licensed  him.  That  constituted  the  true  common  :ment 
of  his  career;  from  this  hour  he  was  a  man  in  the  Mas- 
ter's work.  It  has  been  often  remarked  among  the  Meth- 
odist denomination,  that  the  circuit  is  the  true  college  of 
the  young  preacher.  It  proved  so  in  the  case  of  George 
Willets.  His  idiosyncrasy  was  to  tell  a  thing  as  soon  as 
he  learned  it;  and  while  he  could  preach  at  night  the 
Scripture  that  he  had  studied  through  the  day,  he  made 
unbounded  improvement.  His  memory  proved  retentive ; 
his  ideality  was  highly  vivid ;  perseverance  attended  him 
as  a  shadow,  and  unlimited  love  for  the  souls  of  the  world 
kept  him  up,  and  kept  him  going.  There  was  never  a 
better  combination  of  native  talent  for  the  pulpit,  but  liter- 
ary training  was  wanting. 

In  sheer  desperation  the  Presbytery  concluded  at  last  to 
ordain  him,  and  did  so,  although  by  a  breach  of  the 
Church's  rule  as  to  literary  qualifications.  It  happened 
that  the  occasion  on  which  I  first  met  him  was  his  first 
sermon  since  his  ordination,  and  that  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  he  was  to  officiate  in  the  administration  of  the 
Lord's  supper. 

The  whole  tenor  of  his  discourse  was  to  show  sinners 
where  they  stand,  and  where  they  might  stand.  There  was 
much  eloquence,  remarkable  originality,  even  to  coarse- 
ness, for  I  recollect  that  one  of  his  comparisons  introduced 
fighting -chickens  and  their  owners;  powerful  appeals  to 
the  human  heart,  which  he  had  read  as  a  master;  but 
best  of  all,  a  vein  of  tenderness  so  pure,  so  tgentle,  that 
hundreds  of  us  were  lost  in  tears.  The  peroration  was 
tremendous.  How  such  a  voice  could  come  from  mortal 
ungs,  I  am  not  physiologist  enough  to  explain,  but  it 


320  AUTOBIOGRArilY     OF 

raised  us  to  our  feet  like  a  trumpet,  swayed  us  to  and  fro, 
to  follow,  as  I  suppose,  the  directions  of  his  hand;  and 
at  the  closing  appeal  "for  mourners  to  come  forward  and 
be  prayed  for,"  such  a  rush  was  made  that  I  could  net 
have  withdrawn  from  my  position  with  less  than  Amalek's 
strength,  and  was  compelled  to  endure  such  compression 
as  I  never  before  experienced. 

At  the  hour  of  communion-service  I  heard  him  depic 
ture  the  scene  "on  that  dark,  that  doleful  night," 

"  When  power  of  earth  and  hell  arrayed 
Against  the  Son  of  God's  delight;" 

and  truly  I  had  never  before  seen  the  face  of  the  Man  or 
sorrows,  nor  heard  him  speak.  Will  the  reader  forgive 
the  personal  allusion,  when  I  say  that,  cynic  as  I  may  be, 
or  may  have  been,  that  effort  brought  my  inmost  soul  to 
declare  that  "almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian." At  night  that  mountain  voice  again  spoke  upon  us, 
and  ere  I  left  the  next  morning  a  large  accession,  in  the 
way  of  new  converts,  was  joyfully  announced  to  the  con- 
gregation. 

Since  that  period  I  have  often  sat  under  the  ministry 
of  George  Willets,  and  never  but  to  admire  the  inexhaust- 
ible fertility  of  a  soil  that  lay  fallow  for  so  many  years. 
Maturity  of  intellect  is  upon  him.  The  vagaries  of  his 
youthful  exercise  in  the  pulpit  have  been  conquered,  but 
the  eloquence,  the  originality,  the  gentle  vein  of  Christian 
love  he  retains. 

I  have  been  furnished  with  another  sketch  of  a  back- 
woods preacher,  which  I  will  give : 

Immense  was  the  gathering  at  the  Methodist  camp- 
ground near  Springfield,  on  the  second  Sunday  of  Sep- 
tember, 18S2.  A  powerful  magnet  had  attracted  this 
great  mass  of  people  from  their  homes  in  many  counties 
a  hundred  miles  round.  The  new  presiding  elder,  a  latt 
urrival  from  Kentuckv,  an  orator  of  wide-spread  and  wov 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIX  LEY.  321 

derfu!  renown,  it  was  known,  would  thunder  on  that  day. 
The  glittering  prestige  of  his  fame  had  lightened  before 
him,  and  hence  the  universal  eagerness  to  hear  one  con- 
cerning whom  rumor's  trumpet  tongue  discoursed  so 
loudly. 

Morning  broke  in  the  azure  east,  bright  and  beautiful 
as  a  dream  of  heaven ;  but  the  ex-prodigy  had  not  made 
his  advent.  Eleven  o'clock  came — the  regular  hour  of 
tne  detonation  of  the  heavy  gun  of.  orthodoxy — and  still 
there  was  no  news  of  the  clerical  lion.  A  common  circuit 
preacher  took  his  place,  and,  sensible  of  the  popular  dis- 
appointment, increased  it  by  mouthing  a  miserable  failure, 
^he  vexed  and  restless  crowd  began  to  disperse,  when  an 
event  happened  to  excite  afresh  their  curiosity  and  con- 
centrate them  again  denser  than  ever.  A  messenger 
rushed  to  the  pulpit  in  hot  haste,  and  presented  a  note, 
which  was  immediately  read  out  to  prevent  the  people 
from  scattering.  The  following  is  a  literal  copy  of  that 
singular  epistle : 

''Dear  Brethren, — The  devil  has  foundered  my  horse, 
which  will  detain  me  from  reaching  your  tabernacle  till 
evening.  I  might  have  performed  the  journey  on  foot; 
but  I  could  not  leave  poor  Paul,  especially  as  he  has 
never  left  Peter.  Horses  have  no  souls  to  save,  and, 
therefore,  it  is  all  the  more  the  duty  of  Christians  to  take 
care  of  their  bodies.  Watch  and  pray,  and  don't  let  the 
devil  get  among  you  on  the  sly  before  candle-light,  when 
I  shall  be  iX  my  post 

*'*  Your  brother,  ." 

At  length  the  day  closed.  The  purple  curtain  of  nig}.*. 
fell  over  the  earth  from  the  darkening  sky.  God's  golden 
fire  flashed  out  in  heaven,  and  men  below  kindled  their 
watch-fires.  The  encampment,  a  village  of  snowy  tents, 
was  illuminated  with  a  brilliancy  that  caused  every  leaf 
to  shine  and  sparkle  as  if  all  the  trees  were  burnished 
21 


322  AT  TO  BIOGRAPHY     OF 

iriib  phosphorescent  flame.  It  was  like  a  theater.  I 
was  a  theater  in  the  open  air,  on  the  green  sward,  beneath 
the  stair}*  blue,  incomparably  more  picturesque  and  gor- 
geous than  any  stage  scenery,  prepared  within  walls  of 
brick  or  marble,  where  the  elite  of  cities  throng  to  feasl 
their  eyes  on  beauty  and  their  ears  on  music  of  silvery 
sound. 

Presently  a  form  arose  in  the  pulpit,  and  commenced 
giving  out  a  hymn,  preliminary  to  the  main  exercises,  and 
every  eye  became  riveted  to  the  person  of  the  stranger. 
Indeed,  as  some  one  said  of  Burke,  a  single  flash  of  the 
gazer's  vision  was  enough  to  reveal  the  extraordinary 
man,  although,  in  the  present  case,  it  must,  for  the  sake 
of  truth,  be  acknowledged  that  the  first  impression  was 
ambiguous,  if  not  enigmatical  and  disagreeable.  His 
figure  was  tall,  burly,  massive,  and  seemed  even  more 
gigantic  than  the  reality  from  the  crowning  foliage  of 
luxuriant,  coal-black  hair,  wreathed  into  long,  curling 
ringlets.  Add  a  head  that  looked  as  large  as  a  half- 
bushel,  beetling  brows,  rough  and  craggy  as  fragmentary 
granite,  irradiated  at  the  base  by  eyes  of  dark  fire,  small 
and  twinkling  like  diamonds  in  a  sea — they  were  dia- 
monds of  the  soul,  shining  in  a  measureless  sea  of  hu- 
mor— a  swarthy  complexion,  as  if  embrowned  by  a  south- 
ern sun,  rich,  rosy  lips,  always  slightly  parted,  as  wearing 
a  perpetual  smile,  and  you  have  a  lifelike  portrait  of 
Mr. ,  the  far-famed  backwoods  preacher. 

Though  I  heard  it  all,  from  the  text  to  the  amen,  I  am 
forced  to  despair  of  any  attempt  to  convey  an  accurate 
idea  of  either  the  substance  or  manner  of  the  sermon 
which  followed.  There  are  different  sorts  of  sermons — 
the  argumentary,  the  dogmatic,  the  postulary,  the  per- 
suasive, the  punitive,  the  combative,  "in  orthodox  blows 
and  knocks,"  the  logical,  and  the  poetic;  but  this  speci- 
men belonged  to   none  of  these   categories.     It  was  sin 


REV .    3  kU  Efi    B  .    HNLEY.  323 

veneris,  and  of  a  new  species.  It  might  properly  be 
termed  the  wao-oish. 

He  began  with  a  loud  and  beautifully-modulated  tone, 
in  a  voice  that  rolled  on  the  serene  night  air  like  success- 
ive peals  of  grand  thunder.  Methodist  ministers  are 
celebrated  for  sonorous  voices;  but  his  was  matchless  in 
sweetness  as  well  as  power.  For  the  first  ten  minutes  his 
remarks,  being  preparatory,  were  commonplace  and  unin- 
teresting; but  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  his  face  reddened, 
his  eye  brightened,  his  gestures  grew  animated  as  the 
waftures  of  a  fierce  torch,  and  his  whole  countenance 
changed  into  an  expression  of  inimitable  humor;  and  now 
his  wild,  waggish,  peculiar  eloquence  poured  forth  like  a 
mountain  torrent.  Glancing  arrows,  with  shafts  of  ridi- 
cule, bon  mots,  puns,  and  side-splitting  anecdotes  spark- 
led, flashed,  and  flew  like  hail  till  the  vast  auditory  was 
convulsed  with  laughter.  For  a  while  the  more  ascetic 
strove  to  resist  the  current  of  their  own  spontaneous  emo- 
tions, the  sour-faced  clergy  frowned  and  hung  their  heads, 
and  all  the  maidenly  saints  groaned  as  with  unspeakable 
anguish  at  such  desecration  of  the  evangelical  desk. 
These,  however,  soon  discovered  that  they  had  underta- 
ken an  impossible  achievement  in  thinking  to  withstand 

the  facetias  of  Mr. .    His  every  sentence  was  like  a 

warm  finger,  tickling  the  ribs  of  the  hearer.  His  very 
looks  incited  to  mirth  far  more  than  other  people's  jokes, 
60  that  the  effort  to  maintain  one's  equilibrium  only  in- 
creased the  disposition  to  burst  into  loud  explosions,  as 
every  school-boy  has  verified  in  similar  cases.  At  length 
the  encampment  was  in  a  roar,  the  sternest  features 
relaxed  into  smiles,  and  the  coldest  eyes  melted  into 
tears  of  irrepressible  merriment.  Mather's  best  comedy 
or  Sheridan's  funniest  farce  was  not  half  so  successful. 
This  continued  thirty  minutes,  while  the  orator  painted 
the  folly  of  the  sinner,  which  was  his  theme.     1  looked 


324  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

on  and  laughed  with  the  rest,  but  finally  began  to  fear 
the  result  as  to  the  speaker. 

"How,"  I  exclaimed,  mentally,  "will  he  ever  be  able 
to  extricate  his  audience  from  that  deep  whirlpool  of  hu- 
mor? If  he  ends  thus,  when  the  merry  mood  subsides, 
and  calm  reflection  supervenes,  will  not  the  revulsion  of 
feeling  be  deadly  to  his  fame?  Will  not  every  hearer 
realize  that  he  has  been  trifled  with  in  matters  of  sacred 
and  eternal  interests?  At  all  events,  there  is  no  prospect 
of  a  revival  to-night;  for  were  the  orator  a  magician,  he 
could  not  change  his  subject  now,  and  stem  the  torrent  of 
headlong  laughter." 

But  the  shaft  of  my  inference  fell  short  of  the  mark ; 
and  even  then  he  commenced  to  change,  not  all  at  once, 
but  gradually,  as  the  wind  of  a  thunder-cloud.  His  fea- 
tures lost  their  comical  tinge  of  pleasantry ;  his  voice  grew 
first  earnest,  and  then  solemn,  and  soon  wailed  out  in  the 
tones  of  deepest  pathos ;  his  eyes  were  shorn  of  their  mild 
light,  and  yielded  streams  of  tears,  as  the  fountain  of  the 
hill  yielded  water.  The  effect  was  indescribable,  and  the 
rebound  of  feeling  beyond  all  revelation.  He  descanted 
on  the  horrors  of  hell,  till  every  shuddering  face  was 
turned  downward,  as  if  expecting  to  see  the  solid  glooe 
rent  asunder,  and  the  fathomless,  fiery  gulf  yawn  from 
beneath.  Brave  men  moaned  like  sick  infants,  and  fair, 
fashionable  women,  covered  with  silken  drapery,  and  be- 
dight  with  gems,  shrieked  as  if  a  knife  were  working 
among  their  heart-strings. 

Aijain  he  changed  the  theme :  sketched  the  "ovs  of  a 
righteous  death — its  faith,  its  hope,  its  winged  raptures, 
and  what  beautiful  angels  attended  the  spirit  to  its  starry 
home — with  such  force,  great  and  evident  belief,  that  all 
eyva  were  turned  toward  heaven,  as  the  entire  congrega- 
tion started  to  their  feet,  as  if  to  hail  the  vision  of  an- 
gels at  which  the  finger  of   the  preacher  seemed  to   oe 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  325 

pointed,  elevated  as  it  was  on  high  to  the  full  length  of 
his  arm. 

He  then  made  a  call  for  mourners  into  the  altar,  and 
five  hundred,  many  of  them  till  that  night  infidels,  rushed 
forward  and  prostrated  themselves  on  their  knees.  The 
meeting  was  continued  for  two  weeks,  and  more  than  a 
thousand  converts  added  to  the  Church.     From  that  time 

the  success  of  Mr. was  unparalleled,  and  the 

fact  is  chiefly  due  to  his  inimitable  wit  and  masterly  elo- 
quence that  Methodism  is  now  the  prevailing  religion  in 
Illinois. 

"In  what  college  did  he  graduate?  Surely,  it  must 
have  been  a  mighty  alma  mater  to  develop  such  a  son." 

You  are  more  than  half  right,  my  good  questioner. 

Mr. ,  like  most  preachers  of  his  sect,  received 

his  education  in  the  great  universal  university,  the  same 
that  produced  Moses,  Homer,  Plato,  Shakspeare,  Frank- 
lin— that  weaver  of  garlands  from  the  lightning's  wing — 

o  o  o  o 

Washington,  and  Patrick  Henry.  High  up  on  the  mount- 
ain top,  deep  down  in  the  lowest  valleys,  far  out  on  the 
rolling  billow,  there  he  studied  and  toiled  together,  in  the 
most  glorious  of  all  schools — the  free  school  of  self-cul- 
tuie ! 

"But  did  he  graduate?" 

Ay,  and  nature's  own  hand  wrote  his  diploma  with  a 
pencil  of  living  light,  and  stamped  it  with  a  seal  of  fire, 
the  immortal  fire  of  true  genius. 

Mr. became  an  itinerant  at  eighteen,   with  no 

(earning  from  books  save  what  he  derived  from  the  pages 
>f  his  Bible  and  collection  of  hymns.  Year  after  year  he 
continued  to  travel  the  wild  circuit  of  the  frontier,  earning 
annually  but  a  hundred  dollars  for  labors  painful  as  a 
slave  at  the  oar.  But  his  vocation  afforded  him  an  excel- 
lent opportunity  for  meditation,  and  even  reading.  In  his 
»ong  journeys  from  one  appointment  to  another,  he  was 


326  ATJTOBIOGKAPHY    OF 

alone,  with  nothing  around  him  but  woods  and  waters, 
birds,  mountains,  sun,  moon,  and  stars.  Furthermore,  he 
bought  him  books  of  liteiature  and  science,  ana  pored 
over  them  as  he  rode  along,  with  an  ardor  and  perse- 
verance such  as  perhaps  never  was  witnessed  within  the 
stone  walls  of  a  college.  Thus  he  mastered  mathematics, 
logic,  physic,  law,  and  several  languages,  ancient  and 
modern.  0,  believe  me,  believe  all  human  history,  there 
is  no  teacher  like  the  student's  own  hard-working  intellect, 
urged  on  to  action  and  guided  in  its  efforts  by  the  omnip- 
otence of  an  unconquerable  will. 

"Why  did  not  this  western  prodigy  achieve  for  himself 
a  more  extended  renown  ?  "  Why  did  he  not  climb  to  the 
"loftiest  stations  in  the  Church  ?  If  this  narrative  be  true, 
he  ought,  before  now,  to  have  been  a  bishop,  at  least." 

The  statement  of  a  few  facts  will  solve  the  problem. 
Let  it  be  remembered,  then,  that  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  is  a  hierarchy,  in  which  the  dispensation  of  cler- 
ical honors  rests  exclusively  with  the  bishops  and  General 
conferences  of  itinerants,  where  the  laity  and  local  preach- 
ers are  unrepresented,  and,  consequently,  have  no  voice. 
Hence,  in  that  sect,  popular  eloquence,  and  other  showy 
qualities,  have  never  been  found  sufficient  passports  to  the 
pre-eminent  distinctions  of  authority  and  office,  but  often 
to  the  reverse.  The  bishop's  gown  must  be  worn  by 
steady,  austere  devotion,  not  by  brilliant  oratory  or  pro- 
found and  varied  learning. 

On  this  perilous  rock  Mr. 's  lofty  vessel  was 

shivered  into  atoms  of  a  hopeless  wreck.  He  made  no 
pretensions  to  superior  sanctity ;  nor  was  it  manifested  in 
his  conduct  and  demeanor,  whether  in  the  pulpit  or  in 
private  life.  Indeed,  he  was  distinguished  by  one  very 
unclerical  peculiarity — combativeness  in  the  superlative 
degree.  His  battles,  though  always  apparently  in  the  de- 
fensive, were  as  numerous  as  the  celebrated  Bowie.     The 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  327 

only  difference  was  this,  that  Bowie  fought  with  deadly 

weapons,  while  Mr.  used  but  his  enormous  fist, 

which  was  as  effective,  however,  in  the  speedy  settlement 
of  belligerent  issues  as  any  knife  or  pistol  ever  forged 
out  of  steel.  Let  the  reader  Judge  from  the  following 
anecdote. 

At  a  camp  meeting  upon  one  of  his  early  circuits 
there  was  a  great  collection  of  rowdies.  They  were 
both  intoxicated  and  armed  with  clubs,  dirks,  knives, 
and  whips;  and  they  swore  they  would  break  up  the 
meeting.      At   eight  o'clock,   on   Sunday  morning,   Mr. 

was   appointed    to    preach.      When    about   half 

through  his  discourse  two  well-dressed  young  men  marched 
into  the  assembly,  with  loaded  whips,  and  hats  on,  and, 
standing  up  in  the  midst  of  the  ladies,  began  to  laugh 
and  talk.  The  preacher  requested  them  to  desist;  but, 
in   reply,  they  cursed  him,  told   him  to  mind  his  own 

business,   and   refused  to   sit   down.     Mr.  then 

called  for  a  magistrate;  but,  although  two  were  present, 
they  were  both  afraid  to  interfere.  The  preacher  then 
descending  from  the  stand,  told  the  magistrates  to  com- 
mand him  to  take  the  rowdies,  and  he  would  do  it  at 
the  risk  of  his  life.  He  advanced  toward  them;  they 
ordered  him  to  stand  off.  One  of  them  struck  at  the 
preacher's  head  with  his  whip,  when  the  latter  closed 
in  with  the  rowdy,  and  jerked  him  off  the  seat.  A  reg- 
ular scuffle  now  ensues;  the  congregation  is  all  in  com- 
motion. The  preacher  throws  his  prisoner,  and  holds 
him  fast;  threatening  that  unless  he  is  quiet,  he  will 
be  thoroughly  pounded.  Meanwhile  the  mob  rushes  to 
the  rescue,  and   an  old   d.vunken   magistrate  comes  up, 

and  orders  Mr. to  let  his  prisoner  go.     He  refuses. 

The  officer  swears  that  if  he  does  not  release  the  rowdy, 
ho  will  knock  him  down.  The  preacher  tells  him  to 
crack  away.     The  drunken  justice  makes  a  pass  at  Mr 


328  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

-,  who  parries  the  stroke,  seizes  the  officer  by  the 


collar  and  hair,  and,  by  a  sudden  jerk  forward,  brings 
him  to  the  ground,  and  jumps  upon  him;  telling  him, 
as  he  told  the  rowdy,  to  be  quiet,  or  he  should  be  well 
pounded.  A  general  melee  ensues.  The  mob  knocked 
down  several  magistrates  and  several  preachers.  Mean- 
while  Mr.  placed   himself  at  the   head   of  the 

friends  of  order,  and  he  and  the  ringleader  of  the  mob 
meet.  The  rowdy  attacks  the  preacher  with  the  inten 
tion  of  knocking  him  down;  but,  by  the  force  of  his 
last  pass,  the  side  of  his  face  is  turned  toward  the 
preacher,  who  gives  a  sudden  and  well-directed  blow  in 
the  burr  of  the  ear,  and  drops  him  to  the  earth.  Where- 
upon a  general  rush  is  made  upon  the  mob  by  the  friends 
of  order,  and  the  rascals  are  knocked  down  in  every 
direction.  In  a  few  moments  they  wheel  and  flee  to  the 
four  winds,  with  the  exception  of  about  thirty  prisoners 
who  are  marched  off  to  a  vacant  tent,  and  placed  under 
guard  till  Monday,  when  they  were  tried,  and  fined  to 
the  utmost  limits  of  the  law.  The  old  drunken  magis- 
trate was  fined  with  the  rest,  and  cashiered. 

The  mob  being  vanquished,  the  whole  encampment, 
as  might  be  expected,  wore  the  aspect  of  mourning. 
There  was  no  attempt  to  resume  preaching  till  evening; 
and  such  was  the  confusion  that  no  one  was  willing  to 

preach  even  then.     But  Mr. felt  his  spirit  stirred 

within  him,  and  said  to  the  elder,  "I  feel  a  clear  con- 
science, for,  under  the  circumstances,  we  have  done 
right;  and  now  I  ask  to  let  me  preach."  "Do,"  said 
the  elder,  "for  there  is  no  other  man  on  the  ground 
that  can  do  it." 

The  trumpet  wa?  blown,  and  there  was  a  general  rush 
to  the  stand.  The  preacher  called  upon  them  all  to 
pray,  if  they  ever  prayed  in  their  lives.  He  took  for 
his  text,   "The  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail."     Hia 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FIN  LEY.  829 

voice  was  strong  and  clear,  and  his  speech  was  encour- 
aging. In  a  few  minutes  the  power  of  God  fell  won- 
drously  upon  the  congregation;  the  people  fell  in  ranks, 
and  in  all  directions,  and  hundreds  were  presently  like 
dead  men  on  the  field  of  battle.  Loud  wailings  for 
mercy  were  heard  from  prostrate  sinners,  and  a  general 
shout  of  Christians  rolled  up  on  the  evening  air  as  the 
voice  of  many  waters.  The  meeting  lasted  all  night — 
all  of  Monday  and  Monday  night,  and  two  hundred  souls 
were  converted  and  joined  the  Church. 

A  thousand  other  incidents,  equally  material  and  inter- 
esting, are  related  as  to  Mr. 's  adventures  in  Ken- 
tucky and  Illinois.  Many  of  them  are  probably  fictitious; 
but  those  genuine  alone,  if  collected,  would  be  sufficient 
to  stock  at  least  two  volumes  of  romantic  reality. 

Such  was  the  backwoods  preacher;  and  biography 
teaches  us  the  mighty  influences  of  circumstances  in 
molding  the  characters  and  fixing  the  destinies  of  indi- 
vidual men.  Had  that  splendid  genius  been  cast  on 
the  tide  of  war  or  thrown  into  the  fiery  vortex  of  the 
revolutionary  era,  his  name  might  have  been  a  signal  of 
doom  to  quaking  nations,  his  renown  might  have  blazed 
like  a  comet  through  all  time. 


330  A  U  T  0  B  I O  Ct  K  A  ,»  a  Y    01 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY- AND  THE  ROBBER. 

The  following  account  of  a  missionary  from  one  ol  Ok- 
eastern  states,  who  bad  completed  his  theological  studies 
and  received  his  commission  to  labor  in  the  west,  has 
been  furnished  me  for  publication.  Like  many  who  come 
from  tlie  east,  he  was  wonderfully  ignorant  of  the  west. 
He  had  seen,  occasionally,  an  article  in  some  of  the  three 
or  four  religious  pericdicals  of  that  period,  about  the 
far  west,  and  with  a  benevolent  desire  of  doing  good  to  the 
destitute  and  scattered  pioneers  of  this  remote  and  then 
scarcely-known  region,  had  traveled  on  horseback  from 
his  native  village,  preaching  on  Sabbaths,  as  occasion 
offered,  during  his  long  journey.  Ohio  was  then  "said 
to  be"  a  land  of  moral  desolation;  Indiana  was  "sup- 
posed" to  be  many  degrees  lower  in  the  scale  of  civiliza- 
tion ;  and  the  new  state  of  Illinois  was  imagined  to  be  sit- 
uated very  near  the  jumping-off  place.  A  vague  and 
somewhat  doubtful  impression  existed  as  to  the  locality 
and  character  of  Missouri;  and  Kentucky  was  known 
abroad  by  report  for  its  fighting  and  gouging  propensities, 
while  the  population  were  characterized  as  "half-horse, 
half- alligator,  and  a  touch  of  the  snapping- turtle." 

Among  the  vague  and  rather  indistinct  impressions  ot 
the  character  and  habits  of  the  frontier  adventurers,  that 
floated  over  the  mind  of  the  young  missionary,  were  those 
of  robbery  and  murders. 

During  the  period  of  inquiry  and  anxious  meditation 
about  devoting  his  life  as  a  missionary  of  the  cross,  Itl  the 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  33] 

wilds  of  the  west,  the  idea  of  robbery  and  murder  occu- 
pied no  minor  place  in  his  imagination.  Still,  with  com- 
mendable resolution,  and  a  martyr  spirit,  he  resolved  tc 
hazard  even  life,  with  the  sacrifice  of  every  earthly  com- 
fort, to  preach  the  Gospel,  and  introduce  the  meliorating 
influences  of  civilization  among  a  people  who  belonged  to 
the  same  nation  with  himself,  and  who  might  eventually 
exert  a  controlling  influence  over  the  destinies  of  the 
republic. 

It  was  a  cloudy  and  cold  day  in  the  month  of  Decem- 
ber, that  our  missionary  friend  was  seen  crossing  an  arm 
of  the  Grand  Prairie,  east  of  the  Okau,  as  the  Kaskaskia 
river  by  abbreviation — au  Kas — and  French  accent  had 
been  called.  He  had  traveled  a  long  distance  that  day, 
by  following  a  devious  and  obscure  trail,  or  "bridle 
path,"  now  through  a  skirt  of  timber,  then  across  the 
point  of  a  prairie,  without  seeing  a  log-cabin,  or  any  other 
sign  of  a  human  residence.  Kight  was  fast  approaching. 
The  landlord  where  he  was  accommodated  with  "private 
entertainment"  the  preceding  night,  had  directed  him  on 
a  "blind  trail"  to  a  fording  place  across  the  Okau,  beyond 

which,  and  in  the  same  direction,  was  the  town  of  G , 

to  which  he  was  journeying.  But  horse  and  rider  were 
fatigued  with  long  fasting  and  a  hard  ride,  and  the  mis- 
sionary  could  form  no  conjecture  how  far  it  might  be 
from  a  settlement  which  he  had  hoped  to  reach  before 
nightfall. 

Anxious,  and  somewhat  bewildered,  he  looked  in  each 
direction  for  signs  of  a  human  habitation,  when  an  un- 
couth specimen  of  humanity  appeared  on  horseback,  com- 
ing in  a  rapid  movement,  and  a  diagonal  direction,  across 
the  prairie,  toward  the  path  of  the  missionary.  As  the 
man  approached,  his  personal  appearance,  dress,  and 
equipage,  manifested  no  friendly  design.  His  head  was 
covered  with  the  skin  of  the  prairie  wolf,  with  tail  hangin" 


332  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

behind.  His  filter  garment  was  neither  a  coat,  frock,  nor 
Mowse.  In  western  parlance,  it  was  a  hunting-shirt,  made 
of  dressed  deer-skin,  with  the  cape  and  side- strips  curi- 
ously notched  and  fringed,  but  to  the  missionary  it  had  an 
alarming  aspect. 

Over  it  hung  a  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch,  and 
around  his  body  was  a  leathern  belt,  in  which  was  thrust 
a  formidable  knife.  A  loaded  rifle  carelessly  lay  across 
the  rider's  shoulders. 

Nor  was  his  personal  appearance  in  the  least  degree 
prepossessing.  He  sported  a  black  beard  of  three  weeks' 
growth,  and  dark,  elfish  locks  of  hair  could  be  seen  be- 
neath the  skin-cap.  His  countenance,  from  constant  ex- 
posure to  the  weather,  was  swarthy,  and  a  rough,  stalwart 
frame  seemed,  to  the  alarmed  missionary,  of  gigantic  pro- 
portions. It  had  braved  the  storms  of  more  than  forty 
winters. 

Every  indication  painted  most  vividly  on  the  perturbed 
imagination  of  the  missionary  the  danger  that  hung  over 
him.  The  first  impulse  was  to  urge  his  horse  into  a 
flight.  A  second  thought  convinced  him  of  the  hopeless- 
ness of  the  attempt,  and  breathing  a  word  of  prayer  to 
heaven  for  protection,  he  felt  to  submit  to  his  fate,  with  a 
gleam  of  hope  that  the  desperado,  who  was  but  a  few 
yards  from  him,  might,  peradventure,  spare  his  life. 

The  salutation  that  struck  on  his  ears,  in  a  harsh,  gut- 
tural voice,  conveyed  no  consolation  to  his  mind,  and  only 
served  to  increase  his  alarm. 

"Hallo,  stranger!  what  are  you  about  there?  Where 
are  you  a  riding?" 

The  reply  was  given  in  the  language  of  weakness  and 
submission,  and  something  was  added,  with  indistinct 
utterance,  about  giving  up  his  horse  and  equipments  if 
his  life  might  be  spared.  Learning,  on  further  inquiry, 
that  his  route  was  across  the  river,  to  a  settlement  some 


REV.     JAMES    E.     FINLEY.  006 

fifteen  or  twenty  miles  distant,  the  supposed  robber  re- 
plied, in  a  voice  by  no  means  mild  and  attractive,  "  You 
can't  get  there  to-night;  besides  the  old  ford  is  washed 
away,  and  you  can  not  find  the  new  one.     I  can  fix  you" 

The  term  "fix"  had  an  ominous  import;  but  the  exact 
degree  of  outrage  implied  in  this  new  form  of  speech  was 
not  very  clearly  understood  by  the  missionary.  But  there 
was  no  alternative.  He  was  alone  and  wholly  unpro- 
tected; he  was  small  in  stature,  of  a  slender  make,  had 
no  weapons  but  spiritual  ones,  and  successful  resistance 
was  hopeless.  He  knew  not  the  path  to  the' river,  and 
were  he  to  attempt  flight  the  death-dealing  rifle  might 
stop  him.  So  he  turned,  as  directed,  into  the  trail,  and 
followed  the  guide.  As  they  slowly  rode  in  "  Indian  file" 
through  the  tall  grass,  with  points  of  timber  and  brush- 
wood for  the  space  of  two  miles,  the  missionary  drew  a 
fancy  picture,  on  his  imagination,  of  a  cave  and  a  band 
of  robbers,  who  would  soon  "fix"  him  or  determine  his 
fate.  He  breathed  more  freely  when  he  found  only  a 
single  cabin,  a  rough-looking  stable  for  horses,  and  a 
cornfield  of  a  few  acres,  with  no  signs  of  accomplices. 

"Light,  stranger,  and  take  your  saddle-bags.  I'll  fix 
your  horse." 

Taking  his  saddle-bags  on  his  arms,  as  directed,  he 
entered  the  cabin  through  a  low  door- way.  Here  was  a 
woman  and  three  children ;  but  their  personal  appearance 
•  and  dress  might  or  might  not  indicate  danger  to  the  trav- 
eler. On  her  head  was  a  covering  of  coarse  cotton,  called, 
in  the  language  of  a  past  generation,  a  "  sun-bonnet."  It 
nearly  hid  her  face  from  human  observation. 

Reaching  forward  a  stool,  the  only  salutation  given  was, 
"Take  a  seat  by  the  fire,  stranger." 

Recollecting  what  Ledyard  and  other  travelers  had  said 
of  the  humanity  and  hospitality  of  the  female  sex,  the 
missionary  mu^ed  on  the  probabilities   of  escaping  with 


334:  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

his  life,  feeling  a  degree  of  reconciliation  to  the  'oss  of 
his  horse,  his  saddle-bags,  and  the  contents  of  his  purse, 
which  last  contained  but  a  few  dollars  for  traveling  ex« 
pen.:?*.  In  his  saddle-bags  were  divers  articles  of  a«p- 
parol  which  he  could  spare,  and  there  was  the  pocket- 
Bible,  the  gift  of  a  mother  now  in  heaven,  a  hymn-book, 
and  a  small  package  of  neatly-written  sermons,  which 
had  cost  him  several  months'  labor,  and,  as  he  fancied, 
were  admirably  adapted  to  disperse  the  clouds  of  igno- 
rance that  brooded  over  the  inhabitants  of  Illinois. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  settler,  hunter,  or  robber,  in 
whatever  vocation  he  might  appear,  had  replenished  the 
fire  with  some  logs  of  dry  hickory,  while  the  busy  house- 
wife was  preparing  the  homely  meal. 

It  consisted  of  fried  venison-steak,  corn-dodgers,  and 
highly-flavored  coffee,  with  the  appurtenances  of  fresh 
cream  and  excellent  butter. 

The  missionary,  who  had  eaten  nothing  since  early 
dawn,  and  was  cogitating  whether  feminine  humanity 
would  not  afford  him  a  morsel  in  the  corner  where  he 
sat,  was  startled  with  the  invitation,  "  Sit  by,  stranger, 
and  take  a  bite." 

If  surprise  and  gratitude  were  the  first  emotions, 
amazement  followed,  when  the  apparent  robber  implored 
the  blessing  of  God  in  a  sonorous  voice,  closing  with  an 
expressive  amen. 

Bewildered  and  confused,  the  missionary  forgot  to  eat, 
till  repeatedly  reminded  by  the  now  apparently-hospitable 
landlord  and  his  kind-hearted  wife  that  he  did  not  eat. 
"Perhaps  he  was  not  used  to  such  fare.  Would  he  take 
a  sup  of  milk?"  He  did  not  seem  to  regain  his  appetite 
till  the  officious  housewife  brought  on  her  platter  of 
honey,  gathered  from  the  hollow  sycamore,  and  made 
divers  apologies  that  her  larder  contained  nothing  he 
could  eat. 


RtV.    JAMES    B  .     FINLEY.  335 

After  supper,  the  landlord  commenced  religious  con- 
versation with  the  inquiry,  "Are  you  a  professing  man, 
stranger?"  The  question  relative  to  Church  member- 
ship was  propounded  in  a  novel  form,  and  did  not  convey 
to  the  mind  of  the  missionaryexactly  the  idea  intended. 

"  You  looked  mightily  sheered  when  I  found  you  in  the 
prairie.     I  reckon  you  were  a  sort  of  lost?" 

Still  the  replies  were  vague  and  confused,  and  it  was 
not  till  the  owner  of  the  cabin,  in  a  loud  and  animating 
tone,  struck  up  the  favorite  hymn  of  the  followers  of 
Wesley — 

"  A  charge  to  keep  I  have, 
A  God  to  glorify — 
A  never-dying  soul  to  save, 
And  fit  it  for  the  sky  " — 

in  which  his  wife  joined — that  the  minister  was  relieved 
from  his  perturbation,  and  could  converse  calmly.  The 
hymn  was  followed  by  a  characteristic  prayer,  in  which 
the  "stranger"  was  affectionately  remembered  at  the 
throne  of  mercy,  to  which  the  wife  responded  with  sev- 
eral audible  groans.  Conversation  followed  the  evening 
obligation,  during  which  the  missionary  disclosed  his  pro- 
fession and  his  object  in  traveling,  and  received  due 
reproof  for  his  previous  backwardness.  But  he  had  no; 
the  heart  to  tell  his  fears  and  sufferings  from  the  appre- 
hension of  robbery  and  murder  from  a  kind-hearted  local 
Methodist  preacher,  in  a  backwoods  disguise,  who  was  the 
first  man  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  scattered  population 
on  the  borders  of  the  Grand  Prairie,  east  of  the  Okau. 

Next  morning  the  missionary  led  in  prayer,  and,  after 
hii  early  breakfast,  the  hospitable  preacher  saddled  hi§ 
own  horse,  with  that  of  the  missionary,  and  piloted  him 
to  th<  "new"  fording-place  across  the  river,  several  miles 
in  the  direction  toward  G . 

Giving  the  parting  hand,  with  a  severe  but  affectionate 


336  A  l  T  OB  I GG  B  A  PH  Y    OF 

grasp,  the  valedictory  was,  "  Now,  stranger,  you  km:« 
where  my  cabin  is;  don't  pass  without  giving  me  a  call, 
and  stay  long  enough  to  give  the  people  a  preach." 

The  missionary  found  a  field  of  labor  in  a  new  and 
growing  village,  among  a  population  quite  as  intelligent 
and  virtuous  as  the  people  of  his  native  state,  and  a 
church  edifice,  a  Sabbath  school,  and  Bible  class  rose 
under  his  labors. 

The  Methodist  preacher,  whom  his  brethren  at  quar- 
terly meeting  never  suspected  of  having  been  mistaken 
for  a  robber,  in  due  time  doffed  his  wolf-skin  cap  and 
leather  hunting-shirt,  became  clad  in  cotton  garments, 
spun  and  wove  by  his  industrious  wife,  made  a  large  farm, 
prepared  spacious  "camping  ground  "  for  the  annual  con- 
secrations, and  witnessed  the  conversion  of  many  sinner:: 
under  his  own  labors. 

The  missionary  acknowledged  to  the  writer,  when  lie 
revealed,  in  a  somewhat  confidential  manner,  the  story 
of  his  fright,  that  he  was  but  half  educated  when  he 
came  to  Illinois. 

Both  these  men  had  their  appropriate  spheres  of  use- 
fulness, to  which  they  were  fitted  by  nature,  habits,  edu- 
cation, and  grace,  and  both,  many  years  since,  received 
the  plaudit,  "Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servanr, 
''liter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  337 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    MARTYR    PREACHER. 

The  vows  of  God  were  on  him.  Hearing  a  voice  which 
none  else  could  hear,  that  called  him  to  leave  home,  and 
kindred,  and  country,  and  seeing  a  hand  which  none  else 
could  see,  that  beckoned  him  onward,  young  Richmond 
Nolley  bade  adieu  to  all  the  endearments  of  a  happy 
home,  and  entered  the  rough  and  toilsome  field  of  itiner- 
ant life.  Though  he  had  a  slender  and  delicate  frame, 
and  a  feeble  constitution,  he  did  not  stop  to  confer  with 
flesh  and  blood,  but,  buckling  on  the  harness  as  a  faithful 
soldier,  he  went  forth,  at  the  command  of  his  Master,  to 
glorious  war.  He  was  one  of  nature's  amiable  children ; 
such  a  one,  like  Summerfield  or  Cookman,  whom  all  must 
love.  To  know  them  is  to  love  them.  Innocent,  amiable, 
unsuspecting,  and  guileless,  their  nature  is  lost  in  the 
great  depths  of  humanity,  and  their  whole  life  is  one  of 
self-sacrificing  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  human 
race.  They  live,  like  their  divine  Master,  for  others,  and 
not  for  themselves.  Name,  and  fame,  and  fortune,  are 
all  ignored  in  Christ,  and  they  are  a  practical  exemplifica- 
tion of  the  apostle's  doctrine  of  self-consecration  to  God. 
Of  such,  a  cold,  covetous,  selfish,  mammon-loving  world 
is  not  worthy ;  and  the  wonder  is  not  that  they  die  early, 
but  that  God  should  allow  them  to  stay  here  as  long  as 
they  have  been  permitted  to  stay.  I  have  a  distinct  and 
vivid  recollection  of  the  fate  of  Nolley.  I  was  then  but 
young  myself  in  the  ministry,  and  had  passed  through 
some  rough  and  trying  scenes  in  itinerant  life;  but  in  all 
<22 


?,;}$  A  D  T  OBI  0  GKAI'IIY     OF 

my  experience  as  a  m'nis:er,  I  had  heard  of  nothing  like 
it.  The  impression  made  upon  my  mind  was  deep  and 
powerful.  His  deep  devotion,  his  youth,  his  delicate  con- 
stitution, the  circumstance  of  his  dying  alone  and  unat- 
tended in  the  wilderness,  was  like  a  ^vave  of  wormwood 
over  my  soul,  rolling  its  bitterness.  How  did  I  wish  that, 
instead  of  that  frail  form  being  exposed  to  the  fatigues  of 
that  fatal  journey,  it  had  fallen  to  my  lot,  as  one  reared 
amid  such  scenes  would  have  been  likely  to  have  survived 
the  perilous  mission.  But  I  must  not  anticipate.  The 
history  of  this  young  preacher  is  short,  but  full  of  inci- 
dent. 

lie  was  born  in  Virginia,  though  the  date  of  his  birth  is 
not  exactly  known.  At  an  early  age  his  father  removed  to 
the  state  of  Georgia.  But  little  is  known  of  his  early  life, 
except  that  he  possessed  those  remarkable  traits  of  charac- 
ter which  were  so  fully  developed  in  after  life.  About  the 
year  1806  he  was  made  the  happy  subject  of  the  con- 
verting grace  of  God,  and  united  himself  with  the  Meth- 
odist  Episcopal  Church.  It  was  not  long  after  his  conver- 
sion that  the  inward  monitions  of  the  Spirit  were  felt, 
urging  him  to  enter  his  Lord's  vineyard,  and  engage  in 
the  work  of  calling  sinners  to  repentance.  In  matters  of 
such  solemn  import,  tha  Spirit  rarely  moves  upon  the 
heart  of  the  individual  in  advance  of  the  impressions  of 
the  Church ;  and  he  scarcely  begins  to  feel  it  his  duty  to 
exhort  sinners  to  flee  the  wrath  to  come,  and  be  saved 
from  their  sins,  before  he  is  invited  by  the  Church  to  ex- 
ercise his  gifts.  Some  run  before  they  are  called.  Of 
such  are  those  who  profess  to  be  called  of  God  to  preach 
the  Gospel,  but  who,  notwithstanding  all  their  efforts,  can 
not  convince  the  Church  of  that  fact.  Generally  speak- 
ng,  the  voice  of  the  Church  is  the  voice  of  God,  and 
what  is  done  in  her  holy  councils  is  ratified  in  heaven.  It 
was  soon  discovered  that  young  Nolley  had  a  vow  upon 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FIN LEY.  339 

him,  and  that  to  grace  was  added  gifts  which,  if  allowed 
to  be  properly  exercised,  would  soon  be  productive  of 
fruit  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  God. 

One  year  after  his  conversion,  he  was  admitted  into  the 
(raveling  connection,  and  sent  to  Edisto  circuit,  in  South 
Crri&ipa.  So  rapidly  did  the  powers  of  this  youthful  her- 
ald of  the  cross  develop  themselves,  that  his  next  appoint- 
ment, being  but  the  second  year  of  his  ministry,  was  in 
Wilmington,  North  Carolina;  and  the  succeeding  year  to 
the  more  responsible  station  of  the  city  of  Charleston,  the 
capital  of  South  Carolina. 

A  city  life  not  proving  congenial  to  his  health,  and  the 
pastoral  labors  connected  therewith  being  more  than  his 
frail  constitution  could  bear,  the  next  year  we  find  him  on 
Washington  circuit,  in  the  state  of  Georgia.  In  1812,  in 
compliance  with  the  request  of  the  bishop,  he  went  on  a 
mission  to  Tombecbee.  After  passing  through  a  Avilder- 
ness  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  embracing  many 
savage  nations,  during  which  he  was  subjected  to  all  kinds 
of  hardships,  such  as  swimming  deep  rivers  and  creeks, 
often  destitute  of  food,  sometimes  lost  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  exposed  to  wild  beasts  or  savage  men,  and  lying 
out  with  nothing  but  the  earth  for  his  bed  and  the  dark 
vault  above  for  his  covering,  he  at  last  arrived  at  the  place 
of  his  destination. 

Here,  on  this  distant  and  toilsome  field,  he  spent  two 
years  in  laboring  most  indefatigably  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  advancement  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom.  Thou- 
sands would  have  lived  and  died  in  this  frontier  region, 
without  having  heard  of  salvation,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
hinerant  system  of  a  Church  wdiich  had  the  men  of  nerve 
to  carry  it  out.  And  while  the  "successors  of  the  apos- 
tles" were  sitting  in  their  ^as-liohted  saloons,  reclining 
on  their  rich  velvet-cushioned  Elizabethans,  discoursing 
pathetically  about  the  moral  wastes  of  the  west,  and  the 


3-tO  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

inefficient  ministry,  Nolley  and  his  coadjutors  were  carry- 
ing  the  bread  of  life  to  starving,  dying  thousands,  and 
Deopling  leaven  with  little  less  than  the  redeemed  of  hea- 
then lands.  If  Princeton,  Yale,  Union,  and  Rochester, 
were  emptied  to-day,  and  scattered  among  the  destitute  of 
our  frontier  settlements,  how  long  do  you  think,  gentle 
reader,  it  would  take  them  to  acquire  the  efficiency  of  a 
backwoods  itinerant  in  getting  souls  converted  to  God  ? 

On  this  mission,  where  appointments  were  as  far  apar' 
as  conferences  now  are  long,  or  as  would  embrace  an  en- 
tire circuit,  he  never  lost  an  appointment.  He  nevei 
stopped  for  wet  or  cold.  The  invisible  hand  beckoned  him 
onward,  the  inaudible  voice  urged  him  forward,  and  often 
without  a  horse  he  would  take  his  saddle-bags  on  hit 
shoulders  and  walk  to  his  appointments.  In  regard  to  the 
hours  of  sleep,  he  carried  out  to  the  letter  the  rules  of  the 
father  of  Methodism,  and  at  early  morn,  while  many  were 
locked  fast  in  the  embrace  of  Morpheus,  he  was  up  with 
the  lark,  at  his  morning  orisons.  It  is  reported  of  him, 
that  he  most  diligently  instructed  the  children,  in  every 
pla^e — a  duty,  alas!  too  often  neglected  by  many  who 
have  declared  before  God  and  the  world  that  they  would 
attend  to  it.  The  poor  slave  was  not  forgotten  in  his  daily 
ministrations.  Every  day,  almost,  found  him  in  the  hut 
of  the  sable  son  and  daughter  of  Africa,  teaching  them 
the  religion  of  Christ,  and  the  way  to  heaven;  and  had  it 
not  been  for  the  labors  of  just  such  faithful  men,  "Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin"  would  have  been  devoid  of  every  element 
of  interest.  But  not  only  did  he  instruct  the  children, 
and  labor  and  pray  with  the  slave,  but  at  every  house, 
among  parents  and  masters,  with  the  young  and  the  old, 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  bond  and  the  free,  he  endeav- 
ored to  make  full  proof  of  his  ministry  by  "  warning  every 
man,  and  teaching  every  man  in  all  wisdom,  that  he  might 
present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus." 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINXEY.  341 

In  tliis  gr.  at  work  lie  often  met  with  opposition ;  lie  was 
threatened  and  execrated;  but  for  revilings  and  persecu- 
tions he  returned  blessings,  and  his  tears  and  prayers  often 
disarmed  persecution,  and  sent  trembling  to  the  stoutest 
heart.  He  was  on  the  Tombccbee  mission  when  the  In- 
dian war  raged  with  the  most  relentless  fury,  and  the  un- 
protected whites  fell  in  every  direction  beneath  the  mur- 
derous tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  of  the  savage.  When 
the  people  had  all  taken  refuge  in  forts,  and  were  afraid 
to  visit  their  plantations,  the  intrepid  missionary,  as  if 
conscious  of  immortality  till  his  work  was  done,  unarmed 
and  unattended,  went  from  fort  to  fort,  and  preached  the 
Gospel  as  a  visiting  angel  of  mercy.  By  these,  and  other 
acts  of  Christian  kindness,  he  enthroned  himself  in  the 
hearts  of  all  the  people,  and  his  name  will  be  a  household 
word  in  time,  while  his  deeds  will  live  forever. 

His  untiring  zeal  and  devotion,  which  prompted  him  to 
many  exposures,  preyed  heavily  upon  his  delicate  consti- 
tution, and  it  seemed,  to  all  human  appearance,  that  he 
must  quit  the  itinerant  field.  Reduced  almost  to  a  shadow, 
with  pale,  attenuated  features,  he  was  found  among  his 
brethren  at  the  conference,  after  the  year's  toil  had  ended. 
His  dauntless  spirit  would  not  allow  him  to  desist  from 
labor,  and  seek  that  rest  which  was  essential  to  his  resto- 
ration. Determined,  as  it  seemed,  to  run  on  and  burn 
out,  like  the  arrow  of  Ascestes,  which  took  fire  in  its  flight 
and  vanished  in  the  immensity  of  heaven,  so  he,  as  a  flam- 
ing herald  of  the  cross,  oil  fire  of  a  quenchless  zeal, 
pressed  on  to  the.  mark  of  the  heavenly  prize. 

Receiving  an  appointment  on  the  Attakapas  circuit,  in 
the  state  of  Louisiana,  he  entered  upon  the  work,  and 
for  one  year  encountered  toils  and  hardships  which  would 
have  broken  down  a  more  rugged  constitution.  Still  ne 
counted  not  his  life  dear  to  him ;  but,  in  the  midst  of  long 
and  tedious  rides,  muddy  and  almost  impassable  roads, 


342  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

deep  waters,  with  weariness  and  faintness,  villi  fastings 
and  watchings,  he  journeyed  on.  The  peculiarity  of 
the  work  made  it  necessary,  in  the  estimation  of  the 
bishop,  foi  him  to  return  to  the  circuit  next  year,  and, 
without  a  murmur  or  a  sigh,  he  started  out  again  for  his 
distant  fie'id. 

•  He  was  accompanied  by  a  fellow-missionary  across  the 
Mississippi  and  through  a  vast  swamp.  The  difficulties 
they  had  to  encounter  were  almost  incredible,  and,  coming 
to  a  place  where  they  must  separate,  after  embracing  each 
other,  with  mutual  benedictions,  they  parted. 

It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  November,  and  it  was  a 
dark,  cold,  rainy  day.  Arriving  at  night  at  the  house  of 
a  friendly  man,  where  he  staid  till  morning,  imparting  the 
comforts  of  religion  to  its  inmates,  he  departed  on  his 
journey.  Across  his  path  there  lay  a  large  swamp  and 
deep  creeks,  and  not  a  single  white  man  was  to  be  found 
between  that  and  the  place  of  his  destination.  Alone  he 
traveled  on  till  evening,  when  he  found  himself  at  an 
Indian  village.  Having  to  cross  a  creek  before  night, 
and  apprehending  from  the  rains  that  it  would  be  swollen, 
he  employed  an  Indian  to  go  with  him.  When  he  arrived 
on  its  banks,  he  found  it,  as  he  anticipated,  a  full  and 
angry  flood,  rushing  tumultuously  along.  There  was  no 
alternative  but  to  cross  or  remain  with  the  savages ;  so  he 
chose  the  former,  and,  leaving  his  valise,  saddle-bags,  and 
n  parcel  of  books  with  the  Indian,  he  urged  his  horse  into 
the  stream.  No  sooner  did  his  noble  charger  strike  the 
furious  current  than  he  was  beaten  down  the  flood.  The 
noble  animal  battled  courageously  with  the  tide  ;  but  be- 
fore the  other  shore  was  reached,  horse  and  rider  were 
far  below  the  landing-place  of  the  ford,  and,  the  banks 
bring  high  and  precipitous,  it  was  impossible  for  the  horse 
to  gain  a  foothold  or  make  the  ascent  of  the  other  shore 
In  the  struggle  to  do  so  the  rider  was  thrown,  and,  grasp- 


REV.    JAMES     E.     FIN  LET.  34o 

ing  the  limb  of  a  tree  which  extended  over  the  stream,  he 
reached  the  shore.  The  horse  swam  back  to  the  side  of 
the  stream  from  whence  he  started. 

Ti\e  missionary  directed  the  Indian  to  keep  his  horse 
till  morning,  and  he  would  walk  to  the  nearest  house, 
which  was  distant  about  two  miles.  He  traveled  through 
the  woods  about  one  mile,  wet,  cold,  and  weary.  Una- 
ble to  proceed  any  further,  and  conscious,  perhaps,  that 
his  work  was  done,  and  he  had  at  last  fulfilled  the  errand 
of  his  Master,  he  fell  upon  his  knees*  and  commended  his 
soul  to  God. 

There,  in  that  wild  wood  of  the  far  west,  alone  with  his 
Master  and  the  ministering*  spirits  that  encamp  around  the 
saints,  Richmond  Nolley,  the  young  missionary,  closed  his 
eyes  on  earth  to  open  them  in  heaven. 

When  he  was  found  he  was  lying  extended  upon  the 
wet  leaves,  his  left  hand  upon  his  breast  and  the  other 
lying  by  his  side.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  the  gentle 
spirit  left  a  smile  upon  his  pallid  cheek  ere  it  passed  away 
to  that  bright  and  beautiful  world,  where  the  wicked  cease 
to  trouble  and  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


0  The  indentations  made  by  his  kuees  were  left  on  the  ground  close  tj, 
V:  mark  the  spot  where  he  made  his  last  prayer. 


344  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ITINERANT     LIFE     CONTINUED. 

The  Steubenville  conference  of  1818  lasted  eight  days, 
and  was  a  most  interesting  season.  I  was  reappointed  to 
the  Ohio  district,  and,  after  conference,  started  with  my 
brethren  to  my  field  of  labor.  All  the  preachers  seemed 
disposed  to  do  and  suffer  the  will  of  God  in  the  discharge 
of  the  duties  growing  out  of  their  vocation. 

For  some  years  Bishop  M'Kendree  had  been  interested 
in  the  various  tribes  of  Indians,  and  was  anxious  to  have 
missions  established  among  them.  A  work  of  grace  hav 
ing  commenced  among  the  Wyandotts,  at  Upper  San- 
dusky, through  the  instrumentality  of  a  colored  exhorter — 
J.  Stewart — the  Bishop  made  an  engagement  with  my 
brother,  John  P.  Finley,  to  go  among  them  and  teach  the 
youth  to  read  and  write,  and  to  preach  to  the  adults. 
Brother  Montgomery  was  appointed  to  labor  among  the 
Indians  in  company  with  Stewart,  and  for  his  support  a 
collection  was  taken  up  of  five  and  ten  dollars  from  the 
preachers.  At  this  conference  the  Bishop  asked  me  if  I 
would  not  go  there  and  labor  as  a  missionary.  I  remarked 
that  I  did  not  think  I  had  the  necessary  qualifications,  and 
that  there  were  others  who  would  do  vastly  better.  1 
thought  I  had  not  sufficient  patience  to  teach  school. 
After  some  further  conversation  on  the  subject  we  parted, 
but  not  without  a  strong  impression  made  upon  my  mind 
by  the  remarks  of  the  Bishop,  that  at  some  future  day  U 
was  his  intention  to  send  me  to  that  work. 

We  had  a  fine  time  on  the  district  during  the  winter. 
The  area  of  ImmanueFs  kingdom  was  enlarged.     As  fast 


EEY.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LET.  345 

as  the  people  moved  into  the  country  the  preachers  vis- 
ited them,  and  soon  as  they  had  their  cabins  reared,  they 
commenced  preaching  and  forming  societies.  The  camp 
meetings  during  the  latter  part  of  the  year  were  attended 
with  success.  In  many  places  the  novelty  of  such  scenes 
as  are  presented  by  worshiping  God  in  the  grove  attracted 
the  attention  of  many,  and  produced  a  good  impression. 
But  few  can  look  upon  a  camp  meeting  scene  and  not  be 
moved.  Such  a  scene  as  is  presented  by  an  encampment 
at  night,  to  one  who  has  never  witnessed  any  thing  like  it 
before,  must  be  impressive.  To  look  upon  the  long  ranges 
of  tents  surrounding  a  large  area,  in  each  corner  of  which 
bright  fires  are  lighted  up,  and  then  from  tent  and  tree 
to  see  innumerable  lamps  hung  out,  casting  their  lights 
among  the  branches  and  illuminating  all  the  ground, 
would  remind  one  of  the  descriptions  given  of  an  oriental 
wedding  scene,  when,  at  midnight,  the  cry  is  heard,  "Be- 
hold, the  bridegroom  cometh  !  Go  ye  forth  to  meet  him." 
Then  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  and  the  gathering  to- 
gether of  thousands,  who  pass  to  and  fro  with  lights  and 
torches,  all  has  a  tendency  to  awaken  the  most  solemn 
reflections.  And  when  the  holy  song  rises  from  a  thou- 
sand voices,  and  floats  out  upon  the  stillness  of  the  night 
air,  the  listener  must  feel  that  surely  such  a  place  is  holy 
ground.  These  camp  meetings  were  seasons  of  special 
mercy  to  thousands,  and  many  who  came  to  curse  re- 
mained to  pray  for  salvation  and  seek  an  interest  in  the 
blessed  Savior. 

The  conference  this  year  met  in  Cincinnati,  August  7, 
1819.  Many  of  the  fathers  of  our  Israel  were  with  us. 
These  holy  shepherds,  having  been  traveling  extensively 
in  the  intervals  of  conference,  passing  through  the  circuits, 
and  stations,  and  districts,  proclaiming  salvation,  meeting 
classes,  attending  love-feasts,  and  stimulating  the  youngei 
preachers  in  their  work,  kindled  a  flame  of  love  to  God  in 


310  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

every  heart.  The  itinerants  caught  the  holy  fire,  and 
thus,  newly  baptized  with  the  unction  from  above,  went 
out  with  fresh  zeal  into  the  vineyard  of  their  Lord. 
These  backwoods  bishops  traveled  from  Maine  to  Georgia 
and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi,  on  the  farthest 
bounds  of  western  population,  encountering  every  hard- 
ship; and  their  annual  visits  were  looked  for  by  preachers 
and  people,  saint  and  sinner,  with  the  greatest  anxiety  and 
pleasure. 

Nothing  occurred  at  this  conference  to  mar  the'  peace 
and  harmony  which  prevailed  in  the  itinerant  ranks. 
Delegates  were  elected  to  the  General  conference  which 
was  to  be  held  in  the  following  May,  and,  the  business 
being  finished,  each  preacher  started  to  his  field  of  labor. 

This  year  I  was  appointed  to  the  Lebanon  district, 
which  was  bounded  as  follows ;  namely,  on  the  south  by 
the  Ohio  river  and  on  the  north  by  the  lakes,  including  all 
the  territory  in  Michigan.  My  district  included  the  Indian 
mission  at  Upper  Sandusky;  and,  although  the  mission  is 
not  named  in  the  Minutes  of  that  year,  I  was  nevertheless 
chosen  as  superintendent.  I  made  an  appointment  for  a 
quarterly  meeting  for  this  mission  at  Zanesfield,  on  the 
waters  of  Mad  river,  the  13th  and  14th  of  November 
See  Methodist  Magazine,  1820,  page  35.  Here  the  reader 
will  find  an  account  of  the  first  quarterly  meeting  evei 
held  among  the  Indians. 

I  commenced  my  work  by  attending  two  camp  meet- 
ings, one  of  which  was  six  miles  west  of  Springfield. 
This  was  a  local  preachers'  camp  meeting,  at  which  there 
were  present,  I  think,  about  twenty  local  preachers.  As 
radicalism  had  begun  to  show  itself,  there  was  a  consider- 
able of  prejudice  against  the  traveling  preachers.  Brother 
John  Strange,  of  blessed  memory,  was  my  conductor;  and 
he  remarked  to  me  on  the  way,  that  it  was  highly  probable 
we  would  meet  with  a  cool  reception,  as  the  local  brethren 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  347 

were  very  much  prejudiced  against  my  predecessor. 
However,  we  journeyed  on,  and  arrived  at  the  camp- 
ground on  Friday  afternoon.  We  said  but  little  to  any 
one.  On  Saturday  afternoon  brother  Joseph  Tatman  was 
deputed  to  take  me  aside  and  examine  me  in  regard  to 
my  views  of  Church  government.  He  attended  to  his 
duty  in  a  very  Christian  manner,  and  I  presume  the  ex- 
positions I  gave  him  of  Methodist  polity  were  satisfactory, 
as  I  was  waited  upon,  and  invited  to  preach  on  Sabbath 
at  eleven  o'clock. 

The  preaching  hour  arrived,  and  I  was  enabled  to 
preach  with  liberty.  The  Lord  attended  the.  word,  and 
many  were  awakened  and  converted  to  God  before  the 
exercises  connected  with  that  hour  closed.  From  that 
time  I  witnessed  nothing  but  the  kindest  feeling  toward 
me. 

The  next  Saturday  and  Sabbath  the  camp  meeting  com- 
menced at  Mechanicsburg,  and  this  was  a  time  of  the 
greatest  display  of  God's  power  in  the  awakening  and 
conversion  of  sinners.  After  this  I  commenced  my  round 
of  quarterly  meetings.  At  every  meeting  I  set  myself  to 
work  to  find  out  the  exact  state  of  relioion  amono-  the  offi- 
ciary ;  and,  to  enable  me  more  fully  to  do  so,  I  took  a  list 
of  all  the  names,  and  went  into  a  regular  class  meeting 
examination.  This  was  a  novel  procedure,  but  it  was 
made  a  great  blessing  to  every  official  member,  and  before 
I  had  passed  around  my  district  twice,  it  was  all  on  fire. 
0,  what  blessed  times!  The  fire  was  soon  carried  out  by 
preachers,  exhorters,  leaders,  and  stewards,  and  by  spring 
the  whole  Church  throughout  the  vast  field  of  my  labor 
was  in  a  blaze.  )i(l& 

hi  the  month  of  April  I  left  for  General  conference, 
which  was  to  be  held  in  Baltimore,  in  company  with 
brother  John  Collins.  After  twelve  days  of  hard  riding, 
we  reached  the  seat  of  the  conference,  which  commenced 


343  AUTOBIOGEArilY    OF 

its  session  the  first  of  May.  As  conference  progressed,  i1 
was  discoverable  that  there  existed,  unhappily,  some  dis- 
cordant elements  in  the  body.  The  east  seemed  to  be 
arrayed  against  slavery,  and  the  south  against  pewed 
churches.  There  was  also  another  question  which  was  cf 
a  somewhat  exciting  character,  and  which  appeared  to 
carry  every  thing  before  it.  I  allude  to  the  election  of 
presiding  elders.  A  resolution  proposing  a  change  of  the 
Discipline,  so  as  to  make  the  office  of  presiding  elder  elect- 
ive, was  offered  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Ostrander,  and  the 
resolution  was  discussed  with  great  zeal  and  ability.  The 
conference  seemed  so  equally  divided,  it  was  hard  to  tell 
which  side  would  gain  the  victory.  The  bishops  and  pre- 
siding elders  were  mostly  committed  to  the  old  plan  of  ap- 
pointing presiding  elders ;  and  as  the  latter  usually  con- 
stituted the  delegation,  there  was  a  prospect  of  the  rule 
being  retained;  but  so  vigorously  did  the  friends  of  the 
new  measure  contend  for  a  change  which  they  deemed 
most  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of  American  Method- 
ism, that  it  was  confidently  hoped  they  would  succeed. 
Before  coming  to  a  vote,  a  compromise  was  proposed  by 
ihe  Rev.  Ezckiel  Cooper,  of  the  Philadelphia  conference, 
that  there  should  be  a  committee  of  nine  appointed  to 
consult  and  report.  This  committee  reported,  that  in  the 
appointment  of  presiding  elders,  the  bishop  should  have 
the  power  to  nominate  two  or  three  men  for  each  district, 
and  the  conference  should  choose  from  among  these  the 
presiding  elder.  This  report  passed  by  a  large  majority. 
Rev.  Joshua  Soule,  who  had  been  elected  bishop  previous 
to  this  action,  refused  to  be  ordained,  unless  the  confer- 
ence would  reverse  its  action.  The  reason  he  gave  was, 
that  in  his  opinion  the  action  of  the  conference  was  uncon- 
stitutional, and  he  could  not  administer  discipline  undei 
it  Bishop  M'Kendree,  who  was  unwell,  and  was  not  in 
conference  at  the  time  of  the  passage  of  the  report,  camo 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  340 

iii  afterward  with  a  strong  remonstrance  against  it,  and 
hoped  the  conference  would  not  urge  its  operation  till  it 
had  been  sent  round  to  all  the  conferences,  and  its  consti- 
tutionality decided.  After  debating  the  question  of  refer- 
ence for  two  or  three  days,  it  was,  finally,  by  a  very  smali 
majority,  suspended  for  four  years. 

At  this  conference  the  rule  was  adopted  which  required 
Methodist  churches  to  be  built  with  free  seats.  This  was 
a  quite  exciting  topic.  When  the  question  was  raised 
whether  the  rule  should  be  advisory  or  mandatory,  it  was 
decided  that  it  should  only  be  regarded  as  advisory,  and, 
hence,  such  a  caption  was  given  to  it.  I  recollect  dis- 
tinctly hearing  the  Rev.  D.  Ostrander  say,  in  open  confer- 
ence, that  it  would  hot  be  twenty  years  before,  under  that 
very  rule,  some  conference  would  restrict  the  stationing 
power.  And  I  have  lived  to  see  the  fulfillment  of  that 
prophecy,  in  the  action  of  the  Ohio  conference  of  1850  at 
Chilicothe. 

The  General  conference  having  adjourned,  we  back- 
woods preachers  directed  our  course  homeward,  and  wend- 
ing our  way  over  the  mountains,  we  reached  once  more 
the  delightful  valleys  of  the  west. 

We  wound  up  our  year's  work  with  a  round  of  camp 
meetings.  Some  of  these  were  attended  with  unusual 
manifestations  of  Divine  power.  Of  such  were  Rattle- 
snake, Honey  creek,  and  Union  camp  meetings.  At  the 
latter  we  had  the  services  of  our  beloved  superintendents, 
M'Kendree  and  Roberts.  The  gathering  of  the  people 
was  immense.  They  came  together  in  the  spirit  of  prayer, 
and  not  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  display,  such  as 
might  be  called  a  religious  picnic,  where  families  vie  with 
each  other  in  showing  off  to  the  best  advantage,  but  to 
worship  God  exclusively,  without  any  regard  to  "  visits, 
modes,  and  forms."  And  such  realized  the  desire  of 
Lheir  hearts.    The  work  commenced  at  once,  and  continued 


350  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

dav  and  night  with  increasing  power,  and  over  one  him 
dred  and  fifty  were  soundly  converted  to  God.  Milforc' 
camp  meeting-  was  also  a  time  of  great  power,  there  w« 
a  mighty  shaking  among  the  dry  bones.  A  leader  of  infi- 
delity, renowned  for  his  advocacy  of  error,  was  awakened 
and  converted,  and  sent  out  by  the  Spirit  to  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  truth  of  that  religion  which  he  had  reviled 
White-oak  camp  meeting  was  held  at  Indian  hill,  and 
was  the  most  powerful  one  I  had  attended  on  the  district 
How  many  were  converted  I  am  not  able  to  say,  but  the 
number  was  large.  On  Sabbath  T  baptized  one  hundred 
persons  before  nine  o'clock,  by  sprinkling  and  pouring. 
Brother  G.  \V.  Light  wrote  down  the  names  as  I  an- 
nounced them,  and  gave  them  to  me.  Among  the  num- 
ber is  the  name  of  our  beloved  and  lamented  William  B. 
Christie,  of  whom  I  intend  saying  something  hereafter. 
The  Revs.  Augustus  Eddy  and  Charles  W.  Swain,  both 
young  preachers  just  entering  upon  their  ministerial  life, 
were  at  this  meeting. 

Strait  creek  camp  meeting  was  held  soon  after,  and  was 
attended  with  mighty  power.  On  Sabbath  morning,  while 
brother  John  Collins  was  praying,  the  Holy  Spirit  came 
down  on  us  as  a  rushing,  mighty  wind,  and  more  than  one 
hundred  fell  under  the  power  of  God;  and  such  a  time  of 
weeping  and  rejoicing  I  never  saw  before.  We  were 
much  annoyed  by  the  rabble,  who  were  set  upon  us  by 
men  professing  to  wear  the  garb  of  Christian  ministers, 
but  more  frequently  by  the  whisky-makers  and  vender* 
themselves.  Few  men,  in  their  sober  senses,  could  b< 
induced  to  disgrace  themselves  by  interrupting  the  wor 
ship  of  God,  and  those  few  must  be  besotted  and  imbru 
ted  to  a  degree  past  recovery,  who  would  cut  to  pieces  the 
harness,  saddles,  bridles,  tents,  etc.,  of  the  worshipers 
and  howl  around  the  encampment  like  skulking  wolves 
Such  creatures  were  sometimes  handled  pretty  roughly  bv 


REV.     JAMES     B.     FINLEY.  351 

the  conservators  of  the  peace,  and  they  learned  often,  by 
sad  experience,  that  the  way  of  the  transgressor  was  hard. 

I  was  solicited  this  year  to  send  a  minister  to  Detroit. 
After  some  considerable  difficulty,  I  obtained  Rev.  P.  B 
Morey,  and  sent  him,  with  instructions  to  gather  up  the 
scattered  members,  and  form  the  nucleus  of  a  circuit. 
Brother  Hecock,  from  Upper  Canada,  had  been  laboring 
two  years  in  the  shore  settlements,  among  the  destitute 
population.  Brother  Morey  returned,  and  brought  with 
him  a  plan  of  his  circuit;  but  having  contracted  the  fever 
and  ao-ue,  he  was  unwilling  to  qo  back. 

The  conference  this  year  was  held  in  Chilicothe,  and  we 
were  favored  with  the  presence  of  all  our  bishops,  M'Ken- 
drce,  Roberts,  and  George.  The  session  was  character- 
ized with  great  harmony,  and  the  conference  business  was 
transacted  with  great  dispatch.  The  increase  in  the  mem- 
bership in  the  Ohio  conference  this  year,  was  five  thou- 
sand, nine  hundred  and  twenty-two. 

At  this  conference  I  was  returned  to  the  Lebanon  dis- 
trict, and  my  range  was  from  the  Ohio  river  to  the  lakes, 
including  Detroit  and  the  new  settlements  on  the  penin- 
sula, besides  the  Wyandott  mission.  The  Rev.  John  P. 
Kent  was  sent  to  Detroit  circuit,  which  extended  from  the 
Maumee  Rapids  to  Lake  St.  Clair. 

It  was  late  in  the  fall  when  I  left  the  white  settlements 
to  attend  my  first  quarterly  meeting  at  the  Maumee  Rap- 
ids. There  was  not  a  single  habitation  of  a  white  man 
from  the  old  Indian  boundary  on  the  Scioto  till  we  reached 
the  Rapids.  In  this  route  there  were  three  Indian  settle- 
ments—Upper  Sandusky,  Big  Spring,  and  Tawawatown, 
on  a  branch  of  the  Carrion  river.  Through  this  wilder- 
ness I  urged  my  way.  I  had  a  dismal  journey  through 
the  Black  Swamp.  Two  nights  I  lay  out  in  the  woods, 
during  all  which  time  I  did  not  see  the  face  of  a  human 
being.      By   the    help  of   God   I   at   length  reached   my 


352  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

Appointment.  How  changed  the  country  and  inhabitants 
since  I  passed  through  in  1800  with  the  drove  of  cattle! 
From  a  wild,  desolate  region,  where  savages  roamed,  now 
could  be  seen  fruitful  farms,  where  could  be  found  peace- 
ful Christian  families,  in  whose  houses  were  erected  altars 
to  the  God  of  the  Bible.  I  was  hailed,  by  preacher  and 
people,  with  gladness,  as  one  that  bringeth  glad  tidings 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  I  had  the  honor  of  being  the 
first  presiding  elder  that  set  his  foot  on  the  Miami  of  the 
lakes,  and  had  the  privilege  of  holding  the  first  quarterly 
meeting,  love-feast,  or  sacramental  meeting  ever  held  in 
this  now  densely-populated  country.  Our  meeting  com- 
menced under  the  most  favorable  auspices.  The  few  who 
came  together — and  there  were  some  who  had  come  the 
distance  of  seventy-five  miles — sat  together  in  heavenly 
places  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  banner  of  Divine 
love  was  spread  over  us.  Our  meeting  commenced  on 
Friday  night  and  continued  till  Tuesday  morning.  Sev- 
eral professed  religion  and  joined  the  Church.  The  breth- 
ren were  much  refreshed  and  built  up  in  holy  faith. 
After  visiting  many  of  the  settlements,  I  returned  through 
the  wilderness  to  the  Big  Spring,  where  I  held  a  meeting 
with  the  Wyandotts.  Here  the  subject  of  a  mission 
school  was  taken  under  consideration  by  the  principal 
men  of  the  nation ;  and  they  had  been  encouraged  to 
think  they  might  have  two — one  at  Ujsper  Sandusky  and 
the  other  at  this  place.  I  showed  them  the  impractica- 
bility of  organizing  two  schools,  in  consequence  of  the 
expense  attending  them,  and  that  they  must  send  their 
children  all  to  one  place.  We  had  a  very  pleasant  and 
profitable  meeting;  but  no  kind  of  Church  organization. 
All  were  permitted  to  join  in  the  exercises  who  felt  dis- 
posed. The  religion  of  the  natives  seemed  to  bo  a  kind 
of  national  religion.  There  being  no  Church  organiza- 
tion  and  no  rules  of  discipline,  none  were  called  to  an 


EEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  353 

account  for  disorderly  conduct.  It  was  perfectly  obvious 
to  me,  in  this  state  of  things,  that  we  would  be  \mable, 
as  a  Church,  to  accomplish  much  of  any  consequence  un- 
less we  could  organize  the  Indians  into  a  Church  and  ad- 
minister all  the  ordinances  of  religion  and  all  the  rules  of 
Discipline. 

During  the  winter  the  work  progressed  most  gloriously 
on  the  district,  and  multitudes  were  converted  to  God. 
In  the  spring  I  started  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  more 
thoroughly  my  Detroit  charge.  The  trip  was  a  very  ad- 
venturous one.  When  I  arrived  at  Lower  Sandusky  the 
summer  freshet  was  at  its  highest.  I  traveled  alone  to 
the  Muscalange  creek,  and  the  water  covered  the  entire 
valley  from  hill  to  hill.  Unable  to  proceed  any  further,  1 
went  back  to  the  town  at  Lower  Sandusky,  and  hired  a 
Frenchman  to  pilot  me  through  to  the  rapids  of  the  Mail- 
mee.  When  he  came  to  the  creek  he  said  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  get  through ;  so  we  returned,  and  I  directed 
my  course  up  the  river  to  Fort  Ball.  Leaving  my  horse 
with  a  friend,  I  hired  two  young  Indians  to  take  me  to 
the  mouth  of  the  river  in  a  bark  canoe,  so  that  I  might  at 
this  point  get  on  board  the  steamer  Walk-in-the-Water  on 
Friday  morning. 

Setting  sail  in  our  frail  canoe,  we  darted  down  the 
rapid  river,  and,  when  we  came  to  the  Sandusky  Falls, 
we  sped  over  them  like  a  bird.  Night  overtaking  us  be- 
fore we  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river,  we  concluded  io 
tarry  all  night  with  an  old  Frenchman  by  the  name  of 
Poscile,  who  occupied  a  miserable  shanty  on  the  bank, 
and  lived  principally  on  muskrats.  The  place  was  dread- 
fully infested  with  fleas  and  musketoes.  My  comrades 
joined  in  partaking  of  our  host's  hospitalities;  but  I  was 
not  sufficiently -hunger-bitten  to  eat  muskrats.  To  pro- 
tect myself  from  the  foes  which  swarmed  around  me  I  sai 
all  night  on  a  box.  When  daylight  came  we  pushed  off 
23 


354  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

our  canoe  and  paddled  on.  As  we  reached  the  bay  we 
found  the  wind  blowing  fresh  from  land  and  the  waves 
rolling  too  high  for  our  little  bark.  The  bay  was  five 
miles  wide,  and,  notwithstanding  the  boisterous  weather, 
the  Indians  were  for  going  directly  across.  To  this  I 
objected ;  and  we  finally  agreed  to  take  the  east  side  and 
coast  around.  Several  times  our  canoe  filled  with  water, 
and  we  had  to  run  ashore,  pull  it  out,  and  turn  it  over- 
then  relaunching,  put  to  sea  again.  A  more  serious  dis- 
aster befell  us  when  we  got  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
the  shore  at  Goat  Island.  A  sudden  squall  upset  our 
bark,  plunging  us  all  in  the  deep.  Being  unable  to  right 
up  our  vessel  without  something  more  substantial  than 
water  on  which  to  rest  our  leverage,  we  swam  with  our 
boat  to  the  shore.  Here  we  took  our  canoe  on  our 
shoulders,  and  carrying  it  about  a  mile,  we  launched 
again  and  re-embarked.  We  paddled  on,  battling  with  the 
waves,  and  finally  arrived  within  four  miles  of  Portland. 
Taking  my  saddle-bags  on  my  shoulder,  I  walked  to  town, 
almost  exhausted  for  the  want  of  something  to  eat.  Here 
I  stopped  at  a  tavern,  and,  ordering  a  room  with  a  fire,  I 
emptied  my  saddle-bags,  and,  spreading  their  contents, 
with  my  clothes,  before  it,  went  to  bed  and  slept  till  the 
sun  arose  next  morning.  Getting  up,  I  found  all  my 
things  tolerably  well  dried,  except  my  books,  and,  aftei 
taking  my  breakfast,  I  got  on  board  the  boat,  and  arrived 
at  Detroit  on  Saturday  morning,  where  I  put  up  with  my 
old  friend,  Mr.  Jeremiah  Dean.  At  this  place  I  received 
a  letter  from  brother  Kent,  informing  me  of  his  sickness 
at  the  Rapids,  and  his  inability  to  be  with  me.  In  that 
letter  he  informed  me  that  he  had  given  out  appointments 
tor  me  every  day  during  the  week,  except  Saturday  and 
Monday.  Thus  you  see,  dear  reader,  I  ha^d  work  enough. 
The  weather  was  excessively  hot;  but,  notwithstanding, 
we  commenced  our  meetings.      Having  no  church,    w« 


KEV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY 


355 


worshiped  in  the  old  council-house,  and  the  Lord  was 
with  us  of  a  truth.  Governor  Cass,  my  old  friend,  treated 
me  with  great  respect  and  hospitality,  and  also  his  esti- 
mable lady.  Indeed,  God  seemed  to  give  me  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  all  the  people.  The  soldiers  who  were  stationed 
here  treated  me  with  much  respect,  and  many  of  them 
were  awakened  under  preaching.  Of  all  places  in  the 
world,  a  military  station  is  the  most  unfavorable  to  relig- 
ion ;  and  hence  there  was  but  little  fruit  manifested.  Sev- 
eral came  forward  for  prayers  and  were  converted  to  God. 
Had  not  appointments  been  given  out  for  me,  the  meeting 
could  have  been  kept  up  all  the  week  to  great  advantage. 
Brother  Abbott  furnished  me  a  horse,  and  I  started  on 
Tuesday  to  fill  the  appointments  which  had  been  made. 
That  day  I  preached  twice,  and  swam  the  river  Ruse 
three  times.  I  then  went  to  two  or  three  places  out  north 
and  preached  as  far  as  Pontiac.  Returning  to  Detroit,  I 
spent  another  Sabbath  of  great  interest  and  profit  to  my- 
self and  many  others.  My  soul  was  much  united  to  the 
dear  people;  for  they  seemed  to  be  as  sheep  without  a 
shepherd.  On  Monday  I  left  for  Upper  Sandusky. 
When  I  arrived  at  Portland  there  was  no  conveyance  for 
me  to  Lower  Sandusky.  After  considerable  search  I 
found  an  Indian,  whose  horse  I  hired.  The  plan  was  for 
me  to  ride  and  the  Indian  to  walk  or  run,  as  the  case 
might  be.  Accordingly  we  started.  The  Indian  would 
run  on  ahead  in  a  long  trot,  and  then,  stopping,  he  would 
say,  "Good  horse;  how  much  you  give  for  him?"  I 
would  tell  him  I  did  not  want  to  buy.  He  would  then 
run  on  again  a  mile  or  two,  and,  stopping,  would  ask  the 
same  question.  This  he  continued  till,  becoming  tired  of 
his  questions,  I  told  him  I  had  no  money.  "You  lie," 
said  he,  pointing  to  my  saddle-bags.  Then  said  he. 
"How  much  you  give?"  I  said,  "May  be  ten  dollars." 
Becoming  incensed  at  this,  he  exclaimed,  "You  rascal  1 


356  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

you  Kaintuck!  you  rascal!  you  cheat  Indian!"  Short]) 
after  this  we  came  within  hearing  of  several  camps  of 
Indians.  As  we  advanced  we  found  them  in  a  drunken 
spree,  singing,  dancing,  and  hallooing  as  if  all  bedlam 
had  broke  loose.  He  asked  me  to  turn  in  here  and  gel 
some  "lum."  "No,"  said  I,  "you  come  on."  "No: 
me  go,  and  quick  come."  As  soon  as  he  was  gone  I  cut 
a  stout  hickory  stick  and  put  the  Indian  pony  to  his  best. 
Soon  I  heard  the  Indian  yelling  behind  me ;  but  he  was 
not  able  to  overtake  me  till  I  reached  Lower  Sandusky. 
When  he  came  up  he  commenced  abusing  me  and  charg- 
ing me  with  a  disposition  to  run  off  with  his  horse.  1 
told  him  he  must  stop  his  abuse,  as  I  would  have  no 
more  of  it.  "  Did  I  not  give  one  dollar  for  the  use  of 
your  horse?"  "  Yes."  "Well,"  said  I,  "here  is  a  half 
dollar  besides,  to  get  your  dinner  with."  At  this  he 
turned  his  tune,  and  said,  "You  good  man;  you  no  Kain- 
tuck ;  you  my  friend !" 

From  this  place  I  got  a  conveyance  to  Fort  Ball,  where 
I  found  my  horse,  and  traveled  on  to  the  Reservation, 
where  I  met  the  chiefs  and  principal  men  and  women  of 
the  Wyandott  nation.  I  drew  up  a  petition  for  them  to 
send  to  conference,  which  was  to  be  held  at  Lebanon. 
Vide  History  of  the  Wyandott  Mission. 

This  year  brother  Morey  was  admitted  on  trial  into  the 
traveling  connection,  and  appointed  to  Detroit  circuit, 
where  he  promised  great  usefulness  to  the  Church ;  but  it 
pleased  Him  who  holds  the  stars  in  his  right  hand,  to  call 
him  from  labor  to  reward.  The  Minutes  of  this  year  show 
an  increase  in  the  conference  of  one  thousand,  six  hundred 
and  three.  This  was  one  of  the  best  years  of  my  itiner- 
ant life.  A  petition  was  sent  this  year  to  the  bishops  for 
nn;  to  be  stationed  at  Detroit.  This  petition  was  signed 
by  Gjv.  Cass,  the  Messrs.  Hunts,  and  principal  citizens. 
In  the  petition  they  pledged  themselves  to  pay  all  the 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  357 

expenses,  and  support  me,  besides  building  a  church.  It 
was  confidently  believed  by  them,  that  their  prayer  would 
be  heard;  but  Bishop  M'Kendree  thought  the  Indian  mis- 
sion of  more  consequence  than  Detroit,  or  any  other  place 
that  might  want  me.  Bishop  Roberts  was  in  favor  of 
sending  me  to  Detroit,  and  the  matter  continued  in  sus- 
pense till  late  in  the  conference.  My  own  judgment  and 
feelings  led  me  to  Detroit,  because  I  believed  that  at  that 
time  all  the  English  inhabitants  of  the  place  would  have 
joined  the  Church.  But  the  senior  bishop  prevailed,  and 
I  was  sent  among  the  Indians.  With  regard  to  my  mov- 
ing to  Sandusky,  and  my  labors  connected  with  the  Wyan- 
dott  Indians,  I  need  only  say,  that  the  reader  can  refer  to 
the  work  on  the  Wyandott  mission,  and  to  the  Magazines 
of  '22,  '23,  '24,  etc.  These,  however,  give  but  a  brief 
history  of  my  labors  and  trials.  Much  is  unwritten,  but 
I  hope  to  furnish  some  things  in  this  biography  which  are 
worthy  of  remembrance,  and  full  of  incident.  In  the 
fifth  volume  of  the  Methodist  Magazine,  you  will  find  a 
letter  to  Rev.  J.  Soule,  which  will  give  some  account  of  my 
removal. 

There  being  no  missionary  funds  at  that  day  to  furnish 
an  outfit  to  the  missionary,  I  left  home  in  Warren  county 
the  eighth  of  October,  with  two  wagon-loads  of  household 
goods,  farming  utensils,  and  other  needful  apparatus  for 
the  commencement  of  my  work,  ^.fter  eight  days'  hard 
traveling,  we  arrived  at  the  Indian  nation,  and  took  shel 
ter  in  a  cabin  newly  raised,  without  chinking  or  daubing, 
destitute  of  either  chimney,  window,  or  door.  Here  my 
family  had  to  live  till  I  could  build  one.  There  were  six  in 
the  mission  family — two  young  women,  two  young  men  1 
had  hired,  and  myself  and  wife.  I  went  to  work  to  build 
a  cabin  for  the  winter.  The  first  week  three  of  my  hired 
hands  left  me.  Another  calamity  happened.  While  we 
were  cutting  down  a  tree  for  a  house-log,  a  limb  struck 


358  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

brother  George  Riley  on  the  head,  and  I  thought  Mii 
dead  for  some  time.  Placing  him  on  the  wagon,  I  drove 
three-quarters  of  a  mile,  and  then  bled  him  before  he  re- 
vived. All  alone  I  worked  every  day,  from  daylight  tili 
dark,  till  my  hands  were  so  sorely  blistered  I  could  not 
sleep  at  night.  The  marks  of  my  fingers  were  left  on  the 
timbers  and  logs  from  the  blood  which  flowed  all  day.  In 
the  course  of  a  week  brother  Riley  was.  able  to  help  me. 
On  Sabbaths  I  preached  at  the  council-house,  and  held 
class  meetings  with  all  who  would  stay.  On  the  fourth 
of  November  we  moved  into  our  winter  cabin,  without 
window  or  door,  but  we  hung  a  blanket  up  for  a  shelter. 
Soon  as  we  took  possession  of  our  new  home,  a  widow, 
who  had  no  means  of  sustaining  her  Indian  children,  pre- 
sented us  with  four.  We  could  not  refuse  to  take  these 
poor  children  of  the  forest,  thus  thrown  by  Providence 
upon  us. 

Sister  Harriet  Stubbs,  of  blessed  memory,  volunteered 
to  leave  as  peaceful  and  happy  a  home  as  could  be  found 
in  the  state,  with  every  thing  to  make  her  happy,  and  be- 
come the  matron  and  instructor  of  the  poorest  of  the  poor 
outcasts,  trodden  under  foot  by  vicious  white  men.  She 
was  a  sister-in-law  of  the  Hon.  Judge  M'Lean,  of  Ohio; 
and  although  reared  in  the  tenderest  manner,  yet  she  for- 
sook all  the  advantages  and  blessings  her  station  in  life 
secured,  and  espousing  the  cause  of  God's  poor,  fled  to 
ihe  relief  of  suffering  humanity.  She  possessed  more 
courage  and  fortitude  than  any  one  of  her  age  and  sex, 
that  I  have  been  acquainted  with.  It  was  but  a  short 
time  till  she,  the  intrepid  female  missionary,  was  the  idol 
of  the  whole  nation.  They  looked  upon  her  as  an  angel- 
messenger,  sent  from  the  spii it-land  to  teach  them  the 
way  to  heaven.  They  called  her  the  pretty  red-bird,  and 
were  only  happy  in  the  light  of  her  smiles.  This  most 
Hmiable  young  lady  took  charge  of  the  Indian  girls,  and 


REV.    JAMES    B.   FINLET. 

began  to  teach  them  their  letters,  and  infuse  into  them  hei 
own  sweet  and  happy  spirit. 

As  spring  came,  some  of  the  girls  were  so  far  advanced 
as  to  read  and  speak  English  tolerably  well.  No  sight 
was  more  calculated  to  affect  the  heart  than  to  see  that 
young,  lovely,  and  accomplished  girl  surrounded  by  In- 
dian maidens,  gazing  into  her  deep-blue  eyes,  and  read- 
ing the  love  that  glowed  there  for  them,  and  hanging  with 
breathless  attention  upon  her  lips,  as  she  endeavored  to 
cultivate  the  powers  of  these  children  of  the  forest,  and 
lead  them  up  to  the  civilization  of  Christianity. 

We  spent  the  winter  in  making  preparations  for  building 
a  house  for  the  family  and  the  school.  All  this  we  did 
ourselves.  We  did  not  make  the  Indians  our  hewers  of 
wood  and  drawers  of  water.  So  constantly  was  I  en- 
gaged, that  I  did  not  eat  a  single  meal  of  victuals  by  the 
light  of  the  sun,  except  on  Sabbath,  during  the  whole 
winter.  We  first  cut  our  logs,  then  hauled  them  to  the 
saw-mill,  where  we  staid  day  and  night  and  sawed  our 
lumber.  Brother  Riley  sawed  all  day,  and  I  hauled  the 
lumber  home  on  a  wagon  with  two  yoke  of  oxen ;  and,  after 
returning,  we  sat  up  and  sawed  alternately  all  night.  So 
we  continued  till  we  had  all  the  lumber  we  wanted  to 
build  a  house  twenty-four  by  forty-five  feet,  and  two  sto- 
ries high. 

In  the  spring  I  hired  the  splitting  and  putting  up  of 
ten  thousand  rails,  and  also  hired  two  hands  to  put  in 
our  spring  crop.  Our  school,  in  the  mean  time,  increased 
to  thirteen  children ;  but,  as  yet,  we  had  no  school-house. 
Our  beloved  sister  had  a  booth  made  in  the  yard,  where 
she  taught  her  little  flock  daily.  While  we  were  doing  all 
we  could  to  lay  the  foundation  for  a  large  school  by  which 
to  instruct  the  nation,  we  also  labored  to  bring  them  to 
God.  It  required  great  wisdom  to  manage  affairs  so  aa 
not  to  prejudice  the  Indians.     All  the  savage  part  of  the 


360  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

nation  were  laboring  hard  to  keep  them  in  the  Indian 
faith,  and  every  effort  was  made  to  get  those  who  had 
made  a  profession  of  religion  to  go  back  to  heathenism. 
In  addition  to  this,  whisky-sellers  were  increasing  to  an 
alarming  extent,  and  I  saw  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
more  thoroughly-organized  state  of  society  to  resist  these 
encroachments.  So  I  resolved,  in  direct  opposition  to 
some  of  the  friends  of  the  mission,  to  form  a  society  on 
Methodist  principles.  I  accordingly  drew  up  a  few  arti- 
cles in  reference  to  attending  meeting,  family  and  private 
prayer,  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  total  absti- 
nence from  all  intoxicating  liquors.  These  things  I  ex- 
plained so  fully  that  they  were  perfectly  understood ;  and 
then  I  made  an  effort  to  form  a  class,  which  resulted  only 
in  bringing  out  seven  who  were  willing  to  live  by  rule. 
The  temperance  rule  made  a  great  stir  among  the  whisky- 
traders,  and  they  tried  to  convince  the  Indians  that  in 
thus  putting  their  names  on  paper,  they  had  signed  away 
their  Indian  liberty,  and  had  become  the  slaves  of  the 
white  man.  The  lines,  however,  were  drawn,  and  the 
national  religion,  which  allowed  a  man  to  be  drunk  one 
day  and  very  religious  the  next,  was  entirely  broken  up. 
The  head  chief  and  his  secretary  of  war,  Warpole,  com 
menced  holding  meetings  every  Sabbath,  for  the  purpos< 
of  worshiping  their  Indian  god.  Their  ceremonies  con* 
sisted  in  dancing,  feasting,  drinking,  and  their  chief-priest 
was  called  upon  to  preach  or  rehearse  the  traditions  of 
their  Indian  god,  and  the  mighty  works  aiiu  wonderful 
words  of  their  ancient  warriors  in  the  day  of  battle.  This 
at  first  drew  many  to  worship  with  them.  The  next  Sab- 
bath I  expounded  my  rules,  showed  the  beneficial  effects 
thev  must  produce  if  faithfully  kept,  and  then  opened  the 
'  doors  of  the  Church.  That  day  ten  more  joined — all  oi 
them  of  the  most  influential  of  the  nation.  Four  of  them 
were  principal  chiefs,  Between-the-Logs,  Mononcue,  Hickts, 


KEV.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  #        36'1 

and  Peacock.  This  separation  gave  an  impulse  to  the 
Christian  party,  and  caused  many  to  investigate  religion. 
The  old  faith  was  shaken.  At  one  time  I  was  sent  for  in 
the  afternoon  to  go  in  haste  to  Between-the-Logs.  When 
I  arrived  I  found  the  parties  had  met  to  investigate  the 
religion  of  the  Bible.  After  a  few  Indian  ceremonies, 
such  as  eating  hominy  and  smoking,  the  subject  was  intro- 
duced by  Bloody-Eyes,  a  notorious  old  drunkard.  It 
lasted  all  night  and  till  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
when  the  council  broke.  It  would  take  a  small  volume 
to  communicate  the  transactions  of  that  night.  The 
speeches  of  some  of  these  sons  of  the  forest  were  truly 
wonderful.  But  suffice  it  to  say  that  my  adversaries, 
particularly  the  old  chief,  confessed  themselves  headed 
l£»  every  proposition. 

31 


362  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

GREAT    REVIVAL    IN    THE    WEST. 

In  the  spring  of  1800  one  of  the  most  astonishing  and 
powerful  revivals  occurred  that  has  ever  been  known  in 
the  western  country.  This  was  also  the  most  extensive 
revival  that  perhaps  ever  was  witnessed  in  this  country. 
It  was  marked  by  some  peculiarities  which  had  not  been 
Known  to  characterize  any  revival  in  former  times.  The 
nearest  approximation  to  it,  of  which  I  can  form  any  con- 
ception, was  the  revival  on  the  day  of  pentecost,  when 
tbousands  were  awakened  and  converted  to  God  under  the 
most  exciting  circumstances. 

The  commencement  of  the  revival  is  traceable  to  the 
joint  labors  of  two  brothers  in  Cumberland  county,  Ken- 
tucky, one  of  whom  was  a  Presbyterian  and  the  other  a 
Methodist  preacher.  They  commenced  laboring  together, 
every  Sabbath  preaching,  exhorting,  and  praying  alter- 
nately. This  union  was  regarded  as  quite  singular,  and 
excited  the  curiosity  of  vast  multitudes,  who  came  to  the 
places  of  meeting  to  hear  two  men  preach  who  held  views 
in  theology  supposed  to  be  entirely  antagonistic.  Nothing 
was  discoverable  in  their  preaching  of  a  doctrinal  charac- 
ter, except  the  doctrine  of  man's  total  depravity  and  ruin 
by  sin,  and  his  recovery  therefrom  by  faith  in  Christ.  All 
were  exhorted  to  flee  the  wrath  to  come,  and  be  saved 
from  their  sins.  The  word  which  they  preached  was 
attended  with  the  power  of  God  to  the  hearts  of  listening 
thousands.  The  multitudes  who  flocked  from  all  parts  of 
the  country  to  hear  them,  became  so  vast  that  no  church 
would  hold  them,  and  they  were  obliged  to  resort  to  the 


REV.     JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  363 

Sulci?  and  woods.  Every  vehicle  was  put  in  requisition ; 
carnages,  wagons,  carts  and  sleds.  Many  came  on  horse- 
back, and  larger  crowds  still  came  on  foot. 

As  the  excitement  increased,  and  the  work  of  convic- 
tion and  conversion  continued,  several  brought  tents, 
which  they  pitched  on  the  ground,  and'  remained  day  and 
.night  for  many  days.  The  reader  will  here  find  the  origin 
of  camp  meetings. 

In  the  spring  of  1801  Bishop  M'Kendree  was  appointed 
presiding  elder  of  the  Kentucky  district;  and  being  thus 
brought  in  contact  with  this  wonderful  work,  he  was  pre- 
pared to  form  a  correct  judgment  of  its  character.  That 
there  were  extravagances  that  constituted  no  pavt  of  relig- 
ion, he  was  prepared  to  admit,  but  that  it  was  all  a  wild, 
fanatical  delusion,  he  was  very  far  from  conceding.  Nay, 
he  believed  that  it  was  the  work  of  God's  Spirit  on  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  and  that  thousands  were  genuinely 
converted  to  God. 

These  meetings  began  to  follow  one  another- in  quick 
succession,  and  the  numbers  which  attended  were  almost 
incredible.  While  the  meetings  lasted,  crowds  were  to  be 
seen  in  all  directions,  passing  and  repassing  the  roads  and 
paths,  while  the  woods  seemed  to  be  alive  with  people 
Whole  settlements  appeared  to  be  vacated,  and  only  here 
and  there  could  be  found  a  house  having  an  inhabitant. 
All  ages,  sexes,  and  conditions,  pressed  their  way  to  the 
camp  meeting.  At  these  meetings  the  Presbyterians  and 
Methodists  united.  They  were  held  at  different  places. 
On  the  22d  of  May,  1801,  one  was  held  at  Cabin  creek; 
the  r.sxt  was  held  at  Concord,  in  one  of  my  fa/her's  old 
congregations;  the  next  was  at  Point  Pleasant,  and  the 
succeeding  one  at  Indian  creek,  in  Harrison  county.  At 
these  meetings  thousands  fell  under  the  power  of  God,  and 
cried  for  mercy.  The  scenes  which  successively  occurred 
ftt  these   meetings  were  awfully  sublime,  and  a  genera. 


364  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

terror  seemed  to  have  pervaded  the  minds  of  all  peopie 
within  the  reach  of  their  influences. 

The  great  general  camp  meeting  was  held  at  Cane  Ridge 
meeting-house.  This  house  was  built  for  my  father,  and 
here  was  my  old  home.  I  have  elsewhere  described  this 
meeting,  or,  rather,  attempted  to  do  so.  Language  is 
utterly  impuissant  to  convey  any  thing  like  an  adequate 
idea  of  the  sublimity  and  grandeur  of  the  scene.  Twenty 
thousand  persons  tossed  to  and  fro,  like  the  tumultuous 
waves  of  the  sea  in  a  storm,  or  swept  down  like  the  trees 
of  the  forest  under  the  blast  of  the  wild  tornado,  was  a 
sight  which  mine  own  eyes  witnessed,  but  which  neither 
my  pen  nor  tongue  can  describe. 

During  the  religious  exercises  within  the  encampment, 
all  manner  of  wickedness  was  going  on  without.  So  deep 
and  awful  is  man's  depravity,  that  he  will  sport  while  the 
very  fires  of  perdition  are  kindling  around  him.  Men, 
furious  with  the  effects  of  the  maddening  bowl,  would 
outrage  all  decency  by  their  conduct ;  and  some,  mounted 
on  horses,  would  ride  at  full  speed  among  the  people.  I 
saw  one,  who  seemed  to  be  a  leader  and  champion  of  the 
party,  on  a  large,  white  horse,  ride  furiously  into  the  pray- 
ing circle,  uttering  the  most  horrid  imprecations.  Sud- 
denly, as  if  smitten  by  lightning,  he  fell  from  his  horse. 
At  this  a  shout  went  up  from  the  religious  multitude,  as  if 
Lucifer  himself  had  fallen.  I  trembled,  for  I  feared  God 
had  killed  the  bold  and  daring  blasphemer.  He  exhibited 
no  sio-ns  whatever  of  life ;  his  limbs  were  rmid,  his  wrists 
pulseless,  and  his  breath  gone.  Several  of  his  comrades 
came  to  see  him,  but  they  did  not  gaze  long  till  the  power 
of  God  came  upon  them,  and  they  fell  like  men  slain  in 
battle.  I  was  much  alarmed,  but  I  had  a  great  desire  to 
see  the  issue.  I  watched  him  closely,  while  for  thirty 
hours  he  lay,  to  all  human  appearance,  dead.  During 
iris  time  the  people  kept  up  singing  and  praying.     At  last 


KEY.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  36ft 

he  exhibited  signs  of  life,  but  they  were  fearful  spasms, 
which  seemed  as  if  he  were  in  a  convulsive  fit,  attended 
by  frightful  groans,  as  if  he  were  passing  through  the 
intensest  agony.  It  was  not  long,  however,  till  his  con- 
vulsions ceased,  and  springing" to  his  feet,  his  groans  were 
converted  into  loud  and  joyous  shouts  of  praise.  The 
dark,  fietd-like  scowl  which  overspread  his  features,  gave 
way  to  a  happy  smile,  which  lighted  up  his  countenance. 

A  certain  Dr.  P.,  accompanied  by  a  lady  from  Lexing- 
ton, was  induced,  out  of  mere  curiosity,  to  attend  the 
meeting.  As  they  had  heard  much  about  the  involuntary 
jerkings  and  falling  which  attended  the  exercises,  they 
entered  into  an  agreement  between  themselves  that, 
should  either  of  them  be  thus  strangely  attacked  or  fall, 
the  other  was  to  stand  by  to  the  last.  It  was  not  long  till 
the  lady  was  brought  down  in  all  her  pride,  a  poor  sinner 
in  the  dust,  before  her  God.  The  Doctor,  agitated,  came 
up  and  felt  for  her  pulse ;  but,  alas !  her  pulse  was  gone. 
At  this  he  turned  pale,  and,  staggering  a  few  paces,  he 
fell  beneath  the  power  of  the  same  invisible  hand.  After 
remaining  for  some  time  in  this  state,  they  both  obtained 
pardon  and  peace  and  went  rejoicing  home.  They  both 
lived  and  died  happy  Christians.  Thousands  were  affected 
in  the  same  way. 

These  camp  meetings  continued  for  some  time,  the 
Presbyterians  and  Methodists  uniting  together  as  one  in 
the  army  of  the  Lord.  Some  ministers  had  serious 
doubts  concerning  the  character  of  the  work;  but  its 
genuineness  was  demonstrated  by  the  fruits.  Men  of  the 
most  depraved  hearts  and  vicious  habits  were  made  new 
creatures,  and  a  whole  life  of  virtue  subsequently  con- 
firmed the  conversion.  To  all  but  Methodists  the  work 
was  entirely  strange.  Some  of  the  peculiarities  had  h«en 
witnessed  before  by  the  preachers,  and  they  were  enabled 
to  carry  it  on. 


366  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

These  meetings  exhibited  nothing  to  the  spectator  un- 
acquainted with  them  but  a  scene  of  confusion,  such  as 
scarcely  could  be  put  into  human  language.  They  were 
generally  opened  with  a  sermon  or  exhortation,  at  the 
close  of  which  there  would  be  a  universal  cry  for  mercy, 
some  bursting  forth  in  loud  ejaculations  of  prayer  01 
thanksgiving  for  the  truth ;  some  breaking  forth  in  strong 
and  powerful  exhortations,  others  flying  to  their  careless 
friends  with  tears  of  compassion,  entreating  them  to  fly  to 
Christ  for  mercy ;  some,  struck  with  terror  and  conviction, 
hastening  through  the  crowd  to  escape,  or  pulling  away 
from  their  relations,  others  trembling,  weeping,  crying  for 
mercy;  some  falling  and  swooning  away,  till  every  ap- 
pearance of  life  was  gone  and  the  extremities  of  the  body 
assumed  the  coldness  of  death.  These  were  surrounded 
with  a  company  of  the  pious,  singing  melodious  songs 
adapted  to  the  time,  and  praying  for  their  conversion. 
But  there  were  others  collected  in  circles  round  this  vari- 
egated scene,  contending  for  and  against  the  work. 

Many  circumstances  transpired  that  are  worthy  of  note 
in  reference  to  this  work.  Children  were  often  made  the 
instruments  through  which  the  Lord  wrought.  At  one 
of  these  powerful  displays  of  Divine  power,  a  boy  about 
ten  years  old  broke  from  the  stand  in  time  of  preaching 
under  very  strong  impressions,  and  having  mounted  a 
loo-  at  some  distance,  and  raising  his  voice  in  a  most 
affecting  manner,  cried  out,  "On  the  last  day  of  the  feast 
Jesus  stood  and  cried,  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come 
unto  me  and  drink."  He  attracted  the  main  body  of  the 
congregation,  and,  with  streaming  eyes,  he  warned  the 
sinners  of  their  danger,  denouncing  their  doom,  if  they 
persevered  in  sin,  and  strongly  expressed  his  love  for  the 
salvation  of  their  souls,  and  the  desire  that  they  would 
turn  *.o  God  and  live.  By  this  time  the  press  was  so  great 
that  he  was  taken  up  by  two  m)n  and  held  above  the 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  36? 

crowd.  He  spoke  for  near  an  hour  with  that  convincing 
eloquence  that  could  be  inspired  only  from  heaven,  and 
when  exhausted,  and  language  failed  to  describe  the  feel- 
ings of  his  soul,  he  raised  his  handkerchief,  and  dropping 
it,  cried,  '*  Thus,  0  sinner,"  will  you  drop  into  hell  unless 
you  forsake  your  sins  and  turn  to  God."  At  this  moment 
the  power  of  God  fell  upon  the  assembly,  and  sinners  felj 
as  men  slain  in  mighty  battle,  and  the  cries  for  mercy 
seemed  as  though  they  would  rend  the  heavens,  and  the 
work  spread  in  a  manner  which  human  language  can  not 
describe. 

We  will  now  try  to  give  something  in  reference  to  the 
manner  and  the  exercise  of  mind  of  those  who  were  the 
subjects  of  this  work.  Immediately  before  they  became 
totally  powerless,  they  were  sometimes  seized  with  a  gen- 
eral tremor,  and  often  uttered  several  piercing  shrieks  in 
the  moment  of  falling.  Men  and  women  never  fell  when 
under  this  jerking  exercise  till  they  became  exhausted 
Some  were  unable  to  stand,  and  yet  had  the  use  of  then 
bands  and  could  converse  with  companions.  Others  were 
unable  to  speak.  The  pulse  became  weak,  and  they  drew 
a  difficult  breath  about  once  a  minute.  In  many  instances 
they  became  cold.  Breathing,  pulsation,  and  all  signs  of 
life  forsook  them  for  hours ;  yet  I  never  heard  of  one  who 
died  in  this  condition,  and  I  have  conversed  with  persons 
who  have  laid  in  this  situation  for  many  hours,  and  they 
have  uniformly  testified  that  they  had  no  bodily  pain,  ana 
that  they  had  the  entire  use  of  their  reason  and  powers 
of  mind.  From  this  it  appears  that  their  falling  was 
neither  common  fainting  nor  a  nervous  affection.  Indeed, 
this  strange  work  appears  to  have  taken  every  possible 
turn  to  baffle  the  conjectures  and  philosophizing  of  those 
who  were  unwilling  to  acknowledge  it  was  the  work  of 
God.  Persons  have  fallen  on  their  way  home  from  meet 
ing,  some  after  they  had  arrived  at  home,  others  pursuing 


368  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

their  common  business  on  their  farms,  and  others  when 
they  were  attending  to  family  or  secret  devotions.  Num- 
bers of  thoughtless,  careless  sinners  have  fallen  as  sud- 
denly as  if  struck  by  lightning.  Professed  infidels,  and 
other  vicious  characters,  have  been  arrested,  and  some- 
times at  the  very  moment  when  they  were  uttering  their 
blasphemies  against  God  and  the  work,  and  have,  like 
Saul,  declared  that  to  be  God's  work  which  they  so  vehe- 
mently persecuted. 

I  trust  I  have  said  enough  on  this  subject  to  enable  my 
readers  to  judge  how  far  the  charge  of  enthusiasm  and 
delusion  is  applicable  to  this  work,  unequaled  for  powei 
and  for  the  entire  change  of  the  hearts  and  lives  of  so 
many  thousands  of  men  and  women.  Lord  Lyttleton,  in 
his  letter  on  the  conversion  of  St.  Paul,  observes,  and  I 
think  justly,  that  enthusiasm  is  a  vain,  self-righteous 
spirit,  swelled  with  self-sufficiency  and  disposed  to  glory 
in  its  religious  attainments.  If  this  be  a  good  definition, 
there  was  as  little  enthusiasm  in  this  work  as  any  other. 
Never  were  there  more  genuine  marks  of  that  humility 
which  disclaims  the  merits  of  its  own  works,  and  looks  to 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  the  only  way  of  acceptance  with 
God.  Christ  was  all  and  in  all  in  their  exercises  and 
religion,  and  their  Gospel,  and  all  believers  in  their  high- 
est attainments  seemed  most  sensible  of  their  entire  de- 
pendence upon  Divine  grace ;  and  it  was  truly  affecting  to 
hear  with  what  anxiety  awakened  sinners  inquired  for 
Christ  as  the  only  Physician  who  could  give  them  help. 
Those  who  call  this  enthusiasm  ought  to  tell  us  what  they 
understand  by  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  Upon  the  whole, 
this  revival  in  the  west  was  the  most  extraordinary  that 
ever  visited  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  was  peculiarly 
adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  the  country.  Infidelity 
was  triumphant,  and  religion  at  the  point  of  expiring. 
Something  of  an  extraordinary  nature  was  necessary  tt 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  360 

arrest  the  attention  of  a  wicked  and  skeptical  people,  who 
were  ready  to  conclude  that  Christianity  was  a  fable  and 
futurity  a  dream.  This  great  work  of  God  did  do  it.  It 
confounded  infidelity  and  vice  into  silence,  and  brought 
numbers  beyond  calculation  under  the  influence  of  exper- 
imental religion  and  practical  piety. 

It  is  generally  known  that  in  the  early  settlement  of 
Kentucky,  the  regular  Baptists  we're  by  far  the  most  nu- 
merous body  of  Christians.  It  is  also  known  that  they 
adhered  most  rigidly  to  the  doctrines  of  unconditional 
election  and  reprobation,  together  with  the  final  and  un- 
conditional perseverance  of  the  saints.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  the  Presbyterians,  who  firmly  maintained  and 
preached  these  doctrines  till  the  commencement  of  this 
revival.  Indeed,  the  doctrine  of  unconditional  election 
and  reprobation  was  so  generally  taught  by  these  denom- 
inations, that  there  was  rarely  found  any  one  sufficiently 
fearless  and  independent  to  call  them  in  question.  They 
had  taken  deep  root,  and  it  might  be  said  the  doctrines 
of  Calvin  had  filled  the  whole  country.  During  the  prev- 
alence of  these  doctrines,  supported  as  they  were  on  all 
sides  by  polemical  divines,  whose  religion  seemed  to  con- 
sist almost  entirely  of  a  most  dogged  and  pertinacious  ad- 
herence to  the  creeds  and  confessions  of  faith,  which  had 
been  handed  down  from  orthodox  Puritan  fathers,  it  was 
not  a  matter  of  surprise  that  professors  of  religion,  losing 
sight  of  the  weightier  matters  of  the  Gospel,  while  they 
attended  to  its  "anise,  and  mint,  and  cummin,"  would 
fall  insensibly  into  antinomianism.  The  inconsistency  of 
the  doctrines  of  Calvin  became  the  subject  of  the  sarcas- 
tic sneers  of  infidels,  and  the  inability  of  these  Churches 
to  reconcile  their  doctrines  with  the  justice  of  God  and 
the  present  order  of  things,  made  fearful  inroads  on  the 
cause  of  Christianity,  and  strengthened  the  hands  of  the 
wicked.  The  friends  of  the  truth  were  few.  They  were 
2i 


370  AUTOBIOGRAI'n  Y     OF 

without  influence,    and   much   persecuted;   but,   notwith 
standing,  they  lifted  up  their  voice. 

It  was  at  this  juncture,  and  under  these  circumstances, 
that  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  look  down  upon  the  western 
country.  Man's  extremity  was  God's  opportunity,  and 
the  wonderful  manifestation  of  Divine  power  swept  away 
antinomianism,  and  infidelity,  and  every  refuge  of  lies. 
There  were  some  in  the*  Presbyterian  Church  who  did  not 
preach  a  partial  Gospel,  but  who  lilted  up  their  voice  like 
a  trumpet,  and  invited  all  to  come  to  Jesus  for  salvation, 
assuring  them  that  he  died  for  fall.  Of  this  number  was 
that  man  of  God,  Carey  Allen.  As  a  missionary  he  was 
"a  flame  of  fire,"  and  thousands  were  awakened  under 
his  fervent,  soul-stirring  appeals. 

Not  long  after  the  revival  commenced,  several  of  the 
Presbyterian  ministers  renounced  Calvinism,  and  being 
persecuted  by  their  brethren,  they  left  the  Church,  and 
organized  a  new  Presbytery,  which  was  called  the  Spring- 
field Presbytery.  As  is  often  the  case  with  those  who 
separate  from  the  Church  because  they  judge  it  needs  ref- 
ormation in  doctrine  or  discipline,  so  these  brethren,  un- 
fortunately, did  not  stop  in  media  res,  but  rushed  to  an- 
other extreme.  They  ran  into  gross  errors  and  heresies, 
as  was  seen  in  their  apology  for  renouncing  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  Synod,  the  tract  on  the  atonement  by  Mr. 
Stone,  in  1804,  and  their  sermons.  Methodists  and  Pres- 
byterians both  saw  that  an  enemy  had  come  in,  and  was 
sowing  tares  broadcast  over  the  field,  and  they  retired  to 
their  own  stands,  and  defended  their  own  doctrines. 

The  party  which  had  separated  were  styled  Newlights, 
but  they  have  subsequently  taken  the  name  of  Christian. 
In  June,  1804,  these  preachers  dissolved  their  Presbytery, 
and  drew  up  a  very  curious  paper,  which  they  signed,  en- 
titled "The  last  Will  and  Testament  of  the  Springfield 
Presbytery."      Of   the    six    ministers    who    signed    this 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  371 

paper,  two  went  back  to  the  Presbyterian  Church,  three 
joined  the  Shakers,  and  one  the  Campbellites.  They  pub 
lished  to  the  world,  in  the  paper  above  alluded  to,  their 
belief;  or,  in  other  words,  their  non-belief,  for  they  re« 
nounced  all  creeds,  confessions  of  faith,  and  standards  of 
doctrine    and  started  out  on   a  crusade   ao-ainst  all  the 

o 

Churches. 

Several  of  these  ministers  were  my  school-mates  in 
other  days,  and  I  felt  a  lively  interest  in  them ;  so  much 
so,  as  the  reader  will  find,  in  the  relation  of  my  religious 
life,  given  in  the  preceding  pages,  I  went  to  their  camp 
meeting  on  Eagle  creek  to  join  them.  By  a  personal  and 
confidential  interview  with  one  of  the  preachers,  a  former 
old  class-mate  at  my  father's  academy,  I  learned  that  they 
did  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  nor  in  total 
depravity,  nor  in  the  atonement,  as  held  by  orthodox 
Churches.  Honest  David  Purviance,  in  his  life,  comes 
out  boldly,  and  proclaims  the  doctrines  of  the  Newlight 
Church. 

This  heresy  spread  and  prevailed.  The  early  settlers 
of  Kentucky  were  most  skeptical  on  the  subject  of  relig- 
ion. The  more  influential  classes  of  citizens  were  infidel 
in  sentiment,  and  they  labored  to  bring  all  to  their  views. 
To  accomplish  their  wishes  more  fully,  they  employed,  an 
Englishman  to  take  charge  of  their  seminary  of  learning 
at  Lexington.  He  had  an  extensive  library,  and,  from  his 
position,  exerted  a  great  influence  in  society.  Subse- 
quently, the  principal  of  the  seminary  was  elected  Secre- 
tary of  State.  The  Governor,  Mr.  Garrard,  was  a  cele- 
brated Baptist  preacher,  and  a  gentleman  of  much 
respectability  and  influence.  It  was  not  long  till  the  Sec- 
retary succeeded  in  converting  the  Governor  to  his  faith ; 
and,  having  accomplished  a  result  so  desirable  to  the  infi- 
del party,  the  next  thing  was  to  get  the  Governor  to  pub- 
i.sh  a  tract  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.     Thio  made 


372  A  DTOBIOG  K  A  I'll  y     ()F 

considerable  noise.  In  1802  the  Rev.  Augustin  Easton 
and  Governor  Garrard  commenced  a  meeting  on  Cooper's 
run,  in  Bourbon  county.  Here  they  proclaimed  publicly 
the  Arian  and  Socinian  doctrines.  The  wavering  sepa- 
ratists were  excited  and  encouraged  wonderfully  by  this 
movement,  as  is  evident  from  their  own  confession  and 
subsequent  course.  These  unfortunate  people — New 
lights — from  the  time  they  first  began  to  preach  their 
doctrines,  were  beset  in  their  meetings  with  those  wild  ex- 
ercises that  have  been  alluded  to.  See  Benedict's  History 
of  Baptist  Church,  vol.  ii,  p.  252. 

These  strange  exercises  that  have  excited  so  much 
wonder  in  the  western  country  came  in  toward  the  last 
of  the  revival,  and  were,  in  the  estimation  of  some  of  the 
more  pious,  the  chaff  of  the  work.  Now  it  was  that  the 
humiliating  and  often  disgusting  exercises  of  dancing, 
laughing,  jerking,  barking  like  dogs,  or  howling  like 
wolves,  and  rolling  on  the  ground,  manifested  themselves. 
To  add  to  their  misfortune,  being  ripe  for  such  a  catas- 
trophe, a  company  of  Shakers  from  New  York  found  their 
way  among  them,  and  proselyted  their  most  talented  and 
useful  preacher  and  not  a  few  of  their  members.  These 
fanatics  for  a  season  went  on  with  a  tremendous  influence, 
threatening  to  sweep  all  before  them.  But  they,  like  all 
other  wild  and  visionary  people,  had  their  day. 

If  the  reader  should  desire  to  find  what  the  New- 
lights,  or  Christians,  teach,  he  will  best  obtain  it  from 
their  own  works.  I  refer  the  reader  to  Barton  Stone's 
exposition,  in  pamphlet  form. 

The  wild  vagaries  adopted  by  the  Newlight.  preachers 
of  Kentucky  prepared  them  to  gulp  down  all  the  ridicu- 
lous tenets. of  Shakerism,  and  this  produced  a  general 
skepticism  in  that  state,  that,  I  fear,  will  not  be  done 
away  for  generations.  It  may  seem  strange  that  all 
grades  of  Arians  and  Socinians  have  adopted  immersion 


REV.    JAMES     B.    FINLEY.  373 

as  the  only  mode  of  baptism,  and  regard  it  as  constituting 
a  title  to  heaven. 

The  new  isms  that  followed  this  great  revival  were 
many,  and  it  seemed  as  if  Satan  had  taken  advantage  of 
the  excitement  to  drive  the  bewildered  into  darkness  and 
the  sanguine  into  error  and  folly.  The  Shakers  drew  off 
hundreds  with  them.  Elder  Holmes  rose  up  with  his  pil- 
grims, and  started  out  in  quest  of  the  Holy  Land.  He 
had  many  followers,  and,  after  wandering  about  for  some 
time,  died  on  an  island  in  the  Mississippi  river,  and  his 
band  dissolved.  Elder  Farnum,  also  another  fanatic, 
pretended  to  have  received  the  spirit  of  immediate  inspi- 
ration, and  raised  a  party  called  the  "screaming  chil- 
dren." After  flourishing  for  a  season,  this  association 
dwindled  away.  Next  came  A.  Sargent  and  his  twelve 
disciples — all  women.  It  was  spread  over  the  country 
that  he  was  inspired  and  conversed  with  angels  daily, 
from  whom  he  received  revelations.  Then  Elias  Hicks, 
the  Quaker,  espoused  Arianism,  and  split  the  Quaker 
Church,  spreading  confusion  and  schism  every-where 
among  the  Friends. 

Last,  but  not  least  in  the  train  of  evils,  came  Kidwell 
with  the  last  edition  of  Universalism.  He  taught  that 
there  was  no  hell,  no  devil,  no  future  judgment ;  that  it 
was  impossible  for  any  one  to  commit  any  crime  in  this 
life  that  would  possibly  shut  him  out  of  heaven;  that  all 
souls  at  death  enter  at  once  into  the  heavenly  state,  and 
are  happy  with  God  forever,  no  matter  how  they  have 
lived  in  this  world. 


374  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTERXXII 

NARRATIVE     CONTINUED. 

I  continued  at  the  Wyandott  mission  till  the  fall  of 
1827,  having  been  engaged  in  the  work  of  this  mission 
for  a  period  of  five  years.  The  reader  will  see  that  when 
I  visited  that  nation  there  were  but  few  who  professed 
Christianity,  and  none  who  were  members  of  the  Church 
and  regular  observers  of  its  ordinances.  From  a  small 
Church  organization,  which  I  was  enabled  to  effect,  the 
society  gradually  increased  till  its  numbers  amounted  to 
two  hundred  and  sixty,  and  these  were  divided  into 
classes.  For  an  account  of  the  condition  and  prospects 
of  the  mission  just  before  I  was  called  away  from  it,  I 
refer  the  reader  to  the  report  of  Judge  Leib  to  the  Secre- 
tary of  War,  which  was  made  to  the  Government  in  1826, 
as  found  in  the  "History  of  the  Wyandott  Mission,"  pp. 
367,  368. 

At  the  conference  of  1827  I  was  appointed  to  the  Leb- 
nnon  district,  where  I  labored  two  years,  and  at  the  end 
of  which  time  I  was  sent  to  Cincinnati  station.  The  Rad- 
ical secession  had  taken  place  under  the  administration  of 
my  predecessor,  the  Rev.  John  F.  Wright,  and  Cincinnati 
was  any  thing  else  but  a  desirable  appointment.  After 
remaining  in  the  station  two  years,  I  was  placed  upon  the 
district,  and  after  remaining  two  years,  was  returned  to 
the  station,  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  A.  Morris  succeeded  me 
on  the  district.  In  the  mean  time,  brother  Morris  being 
appointed  editor  of  the  Western  Christian  Advocate,  I 
was  again  placed  on  the  district. 


KEV.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY". 


S71 


After  this  I  was  appointed  to  Chilicothe  district,  -where 
1  remained  two  years,  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  1 
was  sent  to  the  Lebanon  district,  where  I  remained  three 
years.  My  next  appointment  was  Dayton  district,  where 
I  labored  four  years. 

Many  incidents  occurred  during  my  labors  on  these 
respective  fields;  but  it  would  be  impossible  to  relate 
them,  as  it  would  occupy  entirely  too  much  space. 

During  my  labors  on  the  Dayton  district  an  inciden; 
occurred  which  I  must  relate,  because  it  is  due  to  the 
many  to  whom  I  promised  an  account  of  it  that  it  should 
be  published  in  my  biography. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1842.  Worn  down  with 
fatigue,  I  was  completing  my  last  round  of  quarterly 
meetings,  and  winding  up  the  labors  of  a  very  toilsome 
year.  I  had  scarcely  finished  my  work  till  I  was  most 
violently  attacked  with  bilious  fever,  and  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  I  reached  home.  The  disease  had  taken  so  vio- 
lent a  hold  on  my  system  that  I  sank  rapidly  under  its 
power.  Every  thing  that  kind  attention  and  medical  skill 
could  impart  was  resorted  to,  to  arrest  its  ravages;  but 
all  was  in  vain,  and  my  life  was  despaired  of.  On  the 
seventh  night,  in  a  state  of  entire  insensibility  to  all 
around  me,  when  the  last  ray  of  hope  had  departed,  and 
my  weeping  family  and  friends  were  standing  around  my 
couch  waiting  to  see  me  breathe  my  last,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  a  heavenly  visitant  entered  my  room.  It  came  to  my 
side,  and,  in  the  softest  and  most  silvery  tones,  which  fell 
like  rich  music  on  my  ear,  it  said,  "  I  have  come  to  con- 
duct you  to  another  state  and  place  of  existence."  In  an 
instant  I  seemed  to  rise,  and,  gently  borne  by  my  angel 
guide,  I  floated  out  upon  the  ambient  air.  Soon  earth 
was  lost  in  the  distance,  and  around  us,  on  every  side, 
were  worlds  of  light  and  glory.  On,  on,  away,  away 
from  world  to  luminous  worlds  afar,  we  sped  with  the 


376  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

velocity  cf  thought  At  length  we  reached  the  gates  of 
paradise;  and  0,  the  transporting  scenes  that  fell  upon 
my  vision  as  the  emerald  portals,  wide  and  high,  rolled 
back  upon  their  golden  hinges!  Then,  in  its  fullest 
extent,  did  I  realize  the  invocation  of  the  poet : 

"Burst,  ye  emerald  gates,  and  bring 
To  my  raptured  vision 
All  the  ecstatic  joys  that  spring 
Round  the  bright  Elysian." 

Language,  however,  is  inadequate  to  describe  what 
:henf  with  unvailed  eyes,  I  saw.  The  vision  is  indelibly 
pictured  on  my  heart.  Before  me,  spread  out  in  beauty, 
was  a  broad  sheet  of  water,  clear  as  crystal,  not  a  single 
ripple  on  its  surface,  and  its  purity  and  clearness  inde- 
scribable. On  each  side  of  this  lake,  or  river,  rose  up  the 
most  tall  and  beautiful  trees,  covered  with  all  manner  of 
fruits  and  flowers,  the  brilliant  hues  of  which  were  re- 
flected in  the  bosom  of  the  placid  river. 

While  I  stood  gazing  with  joy  and  rapture  at  the  scene, 
a  convoy  of  angels  was  seen  floating  in  the  pure  ether  of 
that  world.  They  all  had  long  wings,  and,  although  they 
went  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  yet  their  wings  were 
folded  close  by  their  side.  While  I  gazed  I  asked  my 
guide  who  they  were,  and  what  their  mission.  To  this  he 
responded,  '"They  are  angels,  dispatched  to  the  world 
from  whence  you  came  on  an  errand  of  mercy."  I  could 
hear  strains  of  the  most  entrancing  melody  all  around  me, 
but  no  one  was  discoverable  but  my  guide.  At  length  1 
said,  "Will  it  be  possible  for  me  to  have  a  sight  of  some 
of  the  just  made  perfect  in  glory  V  Just  then  there  came 
before  us  three  persons;  one  had  the  appearance  of  a 
male,  the  other  a  female,  and  the  third  an  infant.  The 
appearance  of  the  first  two  was  somewhat  similar  to  the 
angels  I  saw,  with  the  exception  that  they  had  crowns 
upon  their  heads  of  the  purest  yellow,  and  harps  in  their 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY  377 

bands.  Their  robes,  which  were  full  and  flowing,  were 
of  the  purest  white.  Their  countenances  were  lighted  up 
with  a  heavenly  radiance,  and  they  smiled  upon  me  with 
ineffable  sweetness. 

There  was  nothing  with  which  the  blessed  babe  or 
child  could  be  compared.  It  seemed  to  be  about  three 
feet  high.  Its  win^s,  which  were  lonsr  and  most  beauti- 
ful,  were  tinged  with  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  Its 
dress  seemed  to  be  of  the  whitest  silk,  covered  with  the 
softest  white  down.  The  driven  snow  could  not  exceed  it 
for  whiteness  or  purity.  Its  face  was  all  radiant  with  glory ; 
its  very  smile  now  plays  around  my  heart.  I  gazed  and 
gazed  wi'h  wonder  upon  this  heavenly  child.  At  length 
I  said,  "If  I  have  to  return  to  earth,  from  whence  I  came, 
I  should  love  to  take  this  child  with  me,  and  show  it  to 
th*>  weeping  mothers  of  earth.  Methinks,  when  they  see 
it,  they  will  never  shed  another  tear  over  their  children 
when  they  die."  So  anxious  was  I  to  carry  out  the  desire 
of  my  heart,  that  I  made  a  grasp  at  the  bright  and  beau- 
tiful one,  desiring  to  clasp  it  in  my  arms,  but  it  eluded  my 
grasp,  and  plunged  into  the  river  of  life.  Soon  it  rose  up 
from  the  waters,  and  as  the  drops  fell  from  its  expanding 
wings,  they  seemed  like  diamonds,  so  brightly  did  they 
sparkle.  Directing  its  course  to  the  other  shore,  it  flew 
up  to  one  of  the  topmost  branches  of  one  of  life's  fair 
trees.  With  a  look  of  most  seraphic  sweetness  it  gazed 
upon  me,  and  then  commenced  singing  in  heaven's  own 
strains,  "To  Him  that  hath  loved  me,  and  washed  me 
from  my  sins  in  his  own  blood,  to  him  be  glory  both  now 
and  forever.  Amen."  At  that  moment  the  power  of  the 
eternal  God  came  upon  me,  and  I  began  to  shout,  and, 
clapping  my  hands,  I  sprang  from  my  bed,  and  was  healed 
as  instantly  as  the  lame  man  in  the  beautiful  porch  of  the 
temple,  who  "went  walking,  and  leaping,  and  praising 
God."     Overwhelmed  with  the  glory  I  saw  and  felt,  I 

32 


378  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

could  not  cease  praising  God.  The  next  Sabbath  I  wen 
to  camp  meeting,  filled  with  the  love  and  power  of  God. 
There  I  told  the  listening  thousands  what  I  saw  and  felt, 
and  what  God  had  done  for  me,  and  loud  were  the  shouts 
01  glory  that  reverberated  through  the  forests. 

Though  years  have  rolled  away  since  that  bright,  happy 
hour,  yet  the  same  holy  flame  is  burning  in  my  heart,  and 
I  retain  the  same  glorious  victory.  " Halleluiah!  for  the 
Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth." 

Being  entirely  restored  to  health,  I  went  to  conference, 
and  was  sent  on  the  Zanesville  district.  Here,  after  many 
years,  I  returned  to  the  same  place  from  whence  I  started 
as  from  a  point  to  travel  round  my  first  circuit.  Old 
brother  Spangler,  whose  hospitalities  I  first,  and  often  sub- 
sequently, enjoyed,  has  long  since  left  us,  and  I  trust  is 
now  in  heaven.  Some  of  his  family  remain.  David 
Spangler,  Esq.,  a  talented  lawyer,  resides  in  Coshocton. 
He  was  always  a  stanch  friend  of  his  father's  people; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  of  Isaac  Spangler,  a  distin- 
guished physician  of  Zanesville.  Several  of  the  daugh- 
ters were  Methodists,  and  perhaps  are  living  still.  Then 
Methodism  was  small  and  feeble,  but  Jacob  has  arisen  and 
become  strong.  This  city  has  some  of  the  firmest  Meth- 
odists: Moorehead,  and  Millis,  and  Howard,  and  the 
Coxes,  Brush,  and  others,  are  an  honor  to  any  Church. 
Long  may  they  live  to  honor  God  and  Methodism ! 

I  remained  on  the  Zanesville  district  two  years,  and, 
at  the  request  of  the  directors  of  the  Ohio  penitentiary, 
was  appointed  chaplain  to  that  institution,  where  I  re- 
mained three  years  and  a  half.  A  full  account  of  my 
labors  in  that  institution  the  reader  will  find  in  "  Prison 
Life." 

In  1850,  my  health  bsing  feeble,  I  took  a  superannuated 
relation,  in  hopes  that  rest  would  prepare  me  again  for 
active  service. 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  379 

The  next  year  I  was  made  effective,  and  appointed  te 
Y"ehow  Springs.  Again  I  took  rest  for  another  year,  and 
now,  in  the  72d  year  of  my  age,  I  have  charge  of  Clinton- 
street  Church,  Cincinnati. 

In  the  year  1845  the  Wyandott  nation,  whom  I  adopted 
as  my  people,  and  who  constituted  me  a  chief  of  one  of 
their  tribes,  were  removed  to  the  Indian  territory  beyond 
the  Mississippi. 

It  is  a  melancholy  reflection,  that  all  those  powerful 
tribes  which  once  inhabited  these  plains,  roaming  at  free- 
dom where  we  now  reside,  and  who  sped  with  their  light 
canoes  over  the  surface  of  our  rivers,  the  monarchs  of  all 
they  surveyed,  have  now  no  claim  whatever  even  to  the 
graves  of  their  fathers.  A  dark  and  dismal  fate  rests 
upon  them,  and  in  their  native  land  they  are  rapidly  fad- 
ing away  beneath  the  gaze  of  the  pale  face. 

Mrs.  Catharine  Walker,  the  amiable  and  talented  wife 
of  the  Rev.  Geo.  W.  Walker,  has  written  some  beautiful 
lines  occasioned  by  the  removal  of  the  Wyandotts ;  and 
knowing  that  they  will  be  interesting  to  my  readers,  I  sub- 
join them.  They  are  thus  appropriately  introduced  by  the 
writer : 

"But  solemn  thoughts  intrude  upon  these  pleasing  re- 
flections of  the  past.  Many  of  those  veteran  warriors, 
who  became  soldiers  of  the  cross,  have  been  called  by  the 
Captain  of  their  salvation,  to  lay  down  their  arms  in  the 
Christian  warfare,  and  go  to  that  rest  which  remains  foi 
his  people,  gathered  from  every  nation,  kindred,  tongue, 
and  people.  But  the  remnant  of  brethren  and  childreu 
which  they  left  below,  and  with  whom  they  suffered  and 
worshiped  here,  where  are  they?  They  had  comfortable 
homes  and  fertile  lands,  and  were  enjoying  all  the  bless- 
ings of  the  Gospel  in  civilized  life;  but  the  white  man 
coveted  their  possessions,  and  they  must  go  to  the  far-ofl 
western  wilds,  again  to  be  exposed  to  all  the  temptations 


380  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

and  trials  Incident  to  savage  life.     May  the  God  of  m:% 
sions  be  with  them ! 

"Go,  fated  Indian,  to  the  farthest  verge 
Of  earth's  remotest  shore; 
There  let  the  night-bird  sing  thy  dirge, 
When  thy  weary  wandering's  o'er. 

Go  sit  upon  the  ocean's  brink, 

And  in  its  solemn  moan, 
Fit  music  for  thy  broken  heart, 

Forget  thy  distant  home. 

But  the  white  man's  foot  is  on  thy  tracks 

As  the  blood-hound  seeks  the  hare; 
Then  arise,  and  scale  some  barren  rock, 

For  the  white  man  will  not  spare. 

Go  dwell  upon  some  craggy  peak, 

Where  the  eagle  makes  her  nest, 
And  eternal  snows  are  drifting  down — 

There  thy  weary  foot  may  rest. 

Away  from  where  thy  kindred  sleep, 

Beneath  a  frigid  sky; 
Where  the  wintery  blast  will  freeze  thy  tear*— 

There  lay  thee  down  and  die. 

Cast  not  a  look  to  thy  native  land, 

But  to  that  blissful  shore, 
Where  oppression's  sigh  is  never  heard, 
.  And  thou  shalt  weep  no  more." 


REY.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  38J 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

SKETCH     OF     BISHOP     ASBURY,     THE      FOUNDER     OF 
AMERICAN     METHODISM. 

In  the  autumn  of  1771  Francis  Asbury,  after  a  voyage 
of  two  months  in  crossing  the  Atlantic,  landed  on  our 
shores.  His  place  of  debarkation  was  Philadelphia.  The 
venerable  founder  of  Methodism,  who  had  already  been 
here  on  a  mission,  but  had  returned  without  having  ac- 
complished, to  any  great  extent,  the  objects  for  which  he 
came,  and  who  still  felt  his  heart  stirred  within  him  for 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  his  brethren  in  this  far-off,  western 
world,  made  a  call  for  volunteers  at  the  conference  in 
Bristol.     This  call  was  responded  to  by  Francis  Asbury. 

That  Providence  which  has  ever  presided  over  the 
Church  perhaps  was  never  manifested  more  signally,  so 
far  as  Methodism  in  America  is  concerned,  than  in  the 
selection,  at  that  time,  of  an  agent  whose  peculiar  fitness 
for  the  work  of  organizing,  giving  direction,  and  imparting 
efficiency  to  the  system  of  means  already  set  in  operation 
for  evangelizing  this  continent,  was  so  marked.  His 
early  religious  training,  under  the  guardianship  of  a  pious 
mother,  to  whose  memory  he  pays  a  merited  tribute,  and 
the  formation  in  youth  of  those  habits  of  piety  which 
enter  so  essentially  into  the  elements  of  all  true  greatness 
in  Christian  character,  admirably  qualified  him  for  the 
work  upon  which  he  was  about  to  enter.  And  here  we 
would  remark,  that  few  men,  either  in  Church  or  state, 
have  been  distinguished  for  goodness  or  greatness  whose 
early  religious  training  has  been  neglected. 


3«2  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

Young  Asbury  was  early  inspired  with  religious  dilu- 
tions, and  his  youthful  mind  was  imbued  with  religious 
principles  ere  he  had  passed  the  first  decade  of  his  life. 
His  autobiography  informs  us  that  he  was  a  diligent  stu- 
dent of  the  Bible  at  seven  years  of  age.     The  brutality 
of  his  schoolmaster,  though  it  drove  him   from  school, 
had  the  effect  of  driving  him  to  God  in  prayer  and  of  in- 
creasing his  love  for  the  Scriptures,  thus  exemplifying  the 
truth  that  the  wrath  of  man  sometimes  works  out  the 
purposes  of  God.     At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was  awak- 
enened  under   the  sermon  of   a  Methodist  preacher,  to 
whose  meeting  he  was  directed  by  his  mother.     In  regard 
to  this  meeting  he  says,  "  I  soon  found  it  was  not  *  the 
Church;*   but  it  was  bettei.      The  people   were   so  de 
vout — men    and   women    kneeling   down,    saying    amen 
Now,  behold !  they  were  singing  hymns.     Sweet  sound 
Why,  strange  to  tell,  the  preacher  had  no  prayer-book 
and  yet  he  prayed  wonderfully !     What  was  yet  more  ex 
traordinary,  the  man  took  his  text  and  had  no  sermon 
book.     Thought  I,  this  is  wonderful  indeed!     It  is  cer 
tainly  a  strange  way,  but  the  best  way." 

To  a  great  degree,  a  cold,  heartless,  and  Christless  the- 
ology characterized  the  sermons  of  "the  Church"  at  that 
day.  In  the  providence  of  God,  through  the  instrument- 
ality of  Methodism,  a  warm  spiritual  life  was  infused  into 
these  dead  forms,  and  awakening  power  roused  them  into 
action.  No  sooner  had  he  felt  the  power  of  regenerating 
grace,  and  had  come  up  to  the  possession  of  that  "confi- 
dence and  assurance  in  Christ"  of  which  he  heard  the 
Methodist  preacher  speak,  and  which  appeared  to  him,  al 
that  time,  wholly  inexplicable,  if  not  a  species  of  fanati- 
cism unwarranted  by  the  Bible,  than  he  felt  an  irrepress- 
ible desire  to  communicate  the  glad  and  joyous  intelli- 
gence to  others.  Nor  was  it  long  till,  at  his  fathei's 
house,  ho  held  a  meeting,  and  poured  out  the  treasures 


KEY.    JAMES    B.    FI.NLEY.  383 

of  his  full  heart  upon  the  consciences  of  those  who  were 
present,  several  of  whom  were  awakened  and  converted. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  became  a  local  preacher, 
and  traveled  extensively,  visiting  every  place  within  his 
reach,  and  preaching  from  three  to  five  times  every  week. 

When  he  had  reached  his  majority  he  gave  himself  up 
deliberately  and  fully  to  God  and  his  work.  About  this 
time  he  felt  his  heart  strangely  drawn  toward  America, 
and  made  it  a  matter  of  constant  and  earnest  prayer  that 
he  might  be  directed,  in  this  respect,  in  all  things  agree- 
able to  the  will  of  God.  Having  consecrated  himself 
wholly  to  the  Lord,  he  was  prepared  to  enter  upon  any 
work  Providence  should  assign  him,  or  visit  any  field, 
however  distant;  yet  he  was  careful  to  ascertain  the  indi- 
cations of  Providence  in  that  regard,  lest,  as  he  says,  "he 
might  run  before  he  was  sent." 

Methodism  had  already  been  planted  in  America.  The 
work  of  God  which,  under  the  Wesleys  and  their  coadju- 
tors, had  spread  throughout  England,  Wales,  and  Ireland, 
resulted  in  the  organization  of  societies  and  the  raising  up 
6f  holy  men  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  scattered  and  per- 
secuted flocks  in  those  countries.  Several  of  these  emi- 
grated to  America,  and  among  the  number  were  Embury 
Webb,  Strawbridge,  Williams,  King,  Boardman,  and  Pil- 
moor.  These  men  were  instrumental  in  preaching  the 
Gospel  and  planting  Methodism  in  New  York,  Frederick 
county,  Md.,  Norfolk,  Philadelphia,  and  elsewhere.  As  her- 
alds, they  had  prepared  the  way,  and  the  seed  which  they 
sowed  was,  by  the  providence  of  God,  cast  in  good  places, 
and,  like  the  "handful  of  corn  on  the  top  of  the  mount- 
ain, "  has  been  springing  up  and  multiplying,  till,  like  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon,  the  spacious  branches  and  goodly  fruii 
now  spread  over  all  the  land. 

Asbury,  upon  his  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  immediately 
entered  upon  his  work.     He  was  gladly  received  by  the 


384  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

brethren,  and  hailed  as  a  colaborer  in  the  great  field.  To 
an  untiring  zeal  he  added  the  most  consummate  prudence 
He  was  a  Methodist  both  in  spirit  and  practice,  adopting 
for  his  own  government  a  most  rigid  method,  by  which  he 
divided  his  time  between  prayer,  study,  preaching,  travel- 
ing, and  even  extended  his  regime  to  eating  and  sleeping, 
and  labored  to  impress  upon  preachers  and  members  all 
the  peculiarities  so  important  to  Methodist  economy.  He 
had  not  been  long  in  this  country  till  he  received  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Wesley,  appointing  him  general  assistant  of  the 
work.  This  honor  he  received  with  a  meekness  charac- 
teristic of  the  man.  The  Church  was  then  small  and 
feeble,  and  Methodism  was  a  term  of  reproach ;  but  still 
it  was  an  honor  to  have  the  leadership  of  that  little  and 
despised  band.  ,  The  motives  to  ambition  which  now  exist 
were  not  then  to  be  found.  To  travel  from  thirty  to  forty 
miles  a  day  in  rain  or  snow,  over  lough  roads,  on  horse 
back,  and  preach  twice  or  thrice,  sometimes  without  food, 
and  at  night  find  shelter  in  a  log-cabin  or  a  barn,  or  fre- 
quently in  "the  wilderness  without  any  shelter,  did  not 
offer  many  inducements  to  aspirants  for  episcopal  honors. 
There  was  then  no  "college  of  bishops,"  whose  support 
was  secured  by  a  mammoth  Book  Concern  and  Chartered 
Fund,  and  who  could  in  a  few  days  reach  their  most  dis- 
tant appointments  on  velvet  cushions,  in  cars  supported 
by  gutta  percha  springs,  or  in  floating  palaces,  which 
plowed  the  deep  at  the  rate  of  twenty  knots  an  hour. 
Notwithstanding  all  this,  however,  we  are  thankful — truly 
thankful — that  there  has  been  a  change,  and,  above  all, 
that  Methodism  has  kept  pace  with  the  mighty  progress 
of  this  enterprising  age.  It  is  with  a  spirit  of  admiration 
that  we  can  look  up  to  those  venerable  and  holy  men  who 
occupy  the  bench  of  bishops,  with  the  most  implicit  confi- 
dence in  their  piety  and  fidelity  and  with  a  certain  know! 
edge  of  the  fact  that  their  office  is  no  sinecure,  but  one 


REV.    JAMES    B.     FINLET.  385 

which  calls  for  and  receives  at  the  hands  of  the  present 
incumbents  a  greater  amount  of  self-sacrificing  devotion 
than  that  of  any  other  office  in  Church  or  state. 

And  we  rejoice,  too,  that  we  have  a  Book  Concern — a 
mammoth  Concern,  if  the  reader  please — taking  rank  with 
any  individual  Concern  in  the  country,  and  larger,  by  far, 
than  any  similar  Church  establishment. 

In  1784,  in  company  with  Dr.  Coke  and  others,  Asbury 
was  consulted  in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  organizing  the 
societies  into  an  independent  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
with  superintendents,  elders,  and  deacons.  In  regard  to 
the  superintendence,  his  reply  was,  "If  the  preachers 
unanimously  choose  me,  I  shall  not  act  in  the  capacity  I 
have  hitherto  done  by  Mr.  Wesley's  appointment."  The 
result  of  the  conversation  was  the  call  of  a  General  con- 
ference to  meet  in  Baltimore  the  ensuing  Christmas.  At 
this  conference  he  and  Dr.  Coke  were  unanimously  elected 
to  the  superintendency.  Till  this  time  Asbury  was  an  un- 
ordained  minister,  and  as  the  Church  had  now  taken  a 
separate  existence,  it  was  necessary  he  should  receive 
orders,  for  the  purpose  of  perpetuating  the  ministry  and 
of  conferring  upon  those  who  gave  evidence  of  a  call  and 
qualification  to  preach  the  Gospel  the  authority  to  admin- 
ister the  sacraments.  Accordingly,  Dr.  Coke  being  a 
presbyter  of  the  Church  of  England,  assisted  by  two  eld- 
ers, successively  conferred  upon  him  the  orders  of  deacon 
and  elder,  and  at  the  same  time,  by  the  imposition  of 
hands,  set  him  apart  for  the  office  of  a  superintendent  in 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

Soon  after  conference  he  started  out  upon  his  work, 
traveling  on  horseback,  in  one  journey,  five  hundred 
miles,  and  preaching  on  the  way.  He  relates  a  pleasing 
interview  which  he  had  in  this  journey  with  General 
Washington,  who  gave  him,  without  hesitation,  his  opin- 
ion against  slavery. 

•25 


386  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

In  that  early  day  of  the  Church  in  this  country,  the 
subject  of  collegiate  as  well  as  academical  and  common 
school  education  was  not  lost  sight  of  by  the  pio- 
neers of  Methodism.  Coke  was  an  Oxonian  himself,  as 
well  as  the  founders  of  Methodism,  and  the  project  of 
founding  a  college  in  this  country  was  dear  to  his  heart. 
Although  Asbury  was  not  what  is  denominated  a  classical 
scholar,  so  far,  at  least,  as  the  literary  degrees  in  cursu 
are  concerned,  yet  it  is  evident  from  his  journal  that  he 
was  well  versed  in  the  original  language  of  the  New  Test- 
anient  and  possessed  of  a  good  share  of  critical  acumen 
in  pulpit  exegesis.  As  a  lover  of  learning  and  a  devoted 
student  of  Biblical  and  theological  literature,  he  readily 
sympathized  with  the  Doctor  in  the  enterprise  of  founding 
a  college,  and  gave  it  his  countenance  and  hearty  support. 
At  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  Cokesbury  College 
at  Abington,  he  delivered  an  eloquent  discourse  from  the 
following  words  of  the  seventy-eighth  Psalm  :  "  We  will  not 
hide  them  from  their  children,  shewing  to  the  generation 
to  come  the  praises  of  the  Lord,  and  his  strength,  and  his 
wonderful  works  that  he  hath  done.  For  he  established  a 
testimony  in  Jacob,  and  appointed  a  law  in  Israel,  which 
he  commanded  our  fathers,  that  they  should  make  them 
known  to  their  children :  that  the  generation  to  come 
might  know  them,  even  the  children  which  should  be 
born ;  who  should  arise  and  declare  them  to  their  children  : 
that  they  might  set  their  hope  in  God,  and  not  forget  the 
works  of  God,  but  keep  his  commandments :  and  might 
not  be  as  their  fathers,  a  stubborn  and  rebellious  genera- 
tion ;  a  generation  that  set  not  their  heart  aright,  and 
whose  spirit  was  not  steadfast  with  God." 

From  this  it  could  be  seen  that,  whatever  our  enemies 
may  say  to  the  contrary,  our  Church  in  this  country,  from 
its  earliest  organization,  has  given  unmistakable  evidence 
of  her  appreciation  of  and  devotion   :o  the  interests  of 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  387 

sanctified  literature.  This  we  trust,  however,  to  make 
appear  more  fully  and  at  large  in  the  biographies  ot  our 
distinguished  men  of  the  past  and  present,  with  which  we 
hope  to  enliven  our  pages  and  edify  our  readers. 

Methodist  preachers  have  hitherto  been  regarded,  by  a 
certain  class,  not  only  as  destitute  of  education  them- 
selves, but  as  enemies  of  learning,  especially  of  a  learned 
ministry,  and  have  frequently  been  slighted,  if  not  sneered 
at,  by  those  who  had  no  other  qualification  for  the  minis- 
try, and  were  not  particularly  burdened  with  that.  On  a 
certain  occasion  Asbury  visited  New  Haven,  the  seat  of 
Yale  College.  The  appearance  of  a  Methodist  preacher 
there  excited  curiosity,  and  he  had  many  students  out  to 
hear  him,  besides  President  Styles  and  other  clergymen. 
When  he  had  finished  his  discourse  not  one  of  the  clergy 
deigned  to  speak  to  him.  This  reminded  him  of  White- 
field's  remark  to  Boardman  and  Pilmoor  at  their  first 
coming  to  America:  "If  ye  were  Calvinists  ye  would 
take  the  country  before  ye."  Notwithstanding  this  cold 
neglect,  he  visited  the  college  chapel  at  the  hour  of  prayer 
and  expressed  a  desire  to  inspect  the  interior  arrange- 
ments; but  no  one  invited  him.  This  is  not  the  first 
time,  nor  has  it  been  the  last,  that  these  self-styled  "effi- 
cient" ministers  of  the  Gospel  have  shown  their  boorish- 
ness  in  the  treatment  of  Methodist  preachers.  In  this 
respoct,  however,  "temjiora  mutantur,"  and  they  have 
been  obliged  to  change  with  the  times.  To  such  conduct, 
however,  toward  Methodist  preachers  there  are  honorable 
exceptions — men  of  strength,  and  power,  and  piety,  who 
Ic  not  consider  it  a  want  of  self-respect,  or  a  lowering 
down  of  dignity,  or  a  sacrifice  of  caste,  to  associate  with 
and  treat  the  humble  "circuit  rider"  with  Christian 
respect. 

Cokesbury  College,  the  child  of  those  two  distinguished 
men  whose  names  it  bore,  opened  into  life  as  a  bright  and 


388  AUTOBIOGRAniY     OF 

beautiful  boy,  the  pride  and  joy  of  its  parent's  heart.  Ii 
was  truly  and  emphatically  the  child  of  the  Church. 
Bright,  however,  as  were  its  prospects,  and  favorable  as 
were  the  auspices  under  which  it  entered  upon  its  career, 
yet,  like  the  most  precious  things  of  life,  often  the  earliest 
doomed,  it  was,  in  the  providence  of  God,  only  allowed  a 
brief  destiny.  Though  early  smitten,  and  the  Church 
was  called  upon  to  mourn  over  the  ashes  of  Cokesbury 
College,  yet  its  spirit  survived,  and  its  metempsychosis 
may  be  seen  in  the  numerous  institutions  of  learning  witb 
which  the  Church  is  blessed  in  all  parts  of  the  country. 

While  Asbury  manifested  so  much  interest  in  schools 
and  colleges,  he  did  not  neglect  a  personal  attendance 
upon  the  instruction  of  the  children  in  families,  but  dili- 
gently catechised  them  in  every  house  where  he  went. 
This  important  part  of  a  Methodist  preacher's  duty,  and 
one  which  enters  into  the  solemn  injunction  of  his  ordina- 
tion vows,  occupied  a  more  prominent  place  in  the  good 
Bishop's  ministrations  and  those  of  the  early  pioneers  of 
Methodism,  perhaps,  than  of  the  preachers  of  the  present 
day. 

It  may  be  remarked  that  Sunday  schools  are  vastly 
more  extended,  efficient,  and  systematic  in  their  opera- 
tions  now  than  at  that  period,  and  this  may  constitute  the 
reason  for  such  laxity  in  regard  to  the  catechetical  instruc- 
tion of  the  children  by  the  preachers.  This,  however, 
should  not  be,  as  no  Sunday  school  instruction  can  supply 
its  place  or  prove  an  excuse  sufficient  to  justify  the  shep- 
herd in  neglecting  to  feed  the  lambs  of  his  flock.  While 
on  this  subject  we  may  take  occasion  to  remark,  that 
Asbury  early  identified  himself  with  the  Sunday  school 
cause,  and  that  to  him  is  justly  due  the  honor  of  having 
established  the  first  Sunday  schools  in  America.  In  a 
pamphlet  which  professes  to  give  the  origin  and  history 
of  Sunday  schools  in  America,  it  is  stated  "that  the  first 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  3S9 

Sunday  school  organization  in  the  United  States  of  which 
we  have  any  authentic  record  was  the  First-Day  or  Sun- 
day School  Society,  which  was  established  in  Philadelphia 
in  1791/'  Now,  it  is  a  fact  well  authenticated,  but 
strangely  overlooked,  that  Bishop  Asbury  organized  a 
Sunday  school  in  Hanover,  Virginia,  in  1786,  Jive  years 
before  the  one  in  Philadelphia;  and  it  is  also  a  fact  that 
one  year  before  this  organization  the  Minutes  of  the  con- 
ference contain  the  following  questions  and  answers : 

"  Question.  What  can  be  done  to  instruct  poor  children, 
white  and  black,  to  read  ? 

"Answer.  Let  us  labor  as  the  heart  and  soul  of  one 
man  to  establish  Sunday  schools  in  or  near  the  place  of 
public  worship.  Let  persons  be  appointed  by  the  bishops, 
ciders,  deacons,  or  preachers  to  teach  gratis  all  that  will 
attend  and  have  a  capacity  to  learn,  from  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  till  ten,  and  from  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
till  six,  where  it  does  not  interfere  with  public  worship. 
The  council  shall  compile  a  proper  school-book  to  teach 
them  learning  and  piety." 

The  subject  of  our  sketch  was  a  man  of  most  pacific 
spirit,  and  while  he  was  removed  from  every  thing  like 
intolerance  on  the  one  hand,  he  was  ready  to  go  all 
lengths,  where  integrity  and  principle  were  not  compro- 
mised, to  conciliate  the  esteem  of  those  who  were  in  any 
degree  alienated  or  felt  themselves  aggrieved,  and  spared 
uo  labor  or  sacrifices  to  cast  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters 
of  partisan  strife.  Nothing  grieved  him  more  than  the 
unhappy  excitement  and  division  gotten  up  by  O'Kelly 
and  his  coadjutors.  In  answer  to  the  complaints  alleged 
against  him  for  exercising  his  episcopal  prerogative,  in 
preventing  O'Kelly  from  becoming  a  fixture  in  a  certain 
locality  where  he  had  worn  out  all  his  influence  and  use- 
fulness, he  says,  "I  have  little  to  leave  except  a  journey 
of  five  thousand  miles  a  year,  the  care  of  more  than  one 


39C  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

hundred  thousand  souls,  and  the  arrangement  of  about 
four  hundred  preachers  yearly,  to  which  I  may  add  the 
murmurs  and  discontent  of  ministers  and  people.  Who 
wants  this  legacy?  Those  who  do,"  he  adds,  "are  wel- 
come to  i*  for  me.  The  Methodists  acknowledge  no  supe- 
riority but  what  is  founded  on  seniority,  election,  and  long 
and  faithful  services.  For  myself,  I  pity  those  who  can 
not  distinguish,  between  a  Pope  of  Rome  and  an  old,  worn 
man  of  sixty  years  who  has  the  power  given  him  of  riding 
five  thousand  miles  a  year  on  horseback,  at  a  salary  of 
eighty  dollars,  through  summer's  heat  and  winter's  cold, 
traveling  in  all  weather,  preaching  in  all  places,  his  best 
covering  from  rain  often  but  a  blanket,  the  surest  sharp- 
ener of  his  wit  hunger,  from  fasts  voluntary  and  invol- 
untary, his  best  fare  for  six  months  of  the  twelve  coarse 
kindness,  and  his  reward,  from  too  many,  suspicion, 
envy,  and  murmurings  all  the  year  round." 

Such,  however,  were  only  occasional  shadows  darken* 
ing  his  otherwise  bright  and  happy  pathway.  His  gen- 
eral experience  may  be  summed  up  in  his  own  words : 
"Close  communion  with  God,  holy  fellowship  with  the 
Father  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  a  will  resigned,  frequent 
addresses  to  a  throne  of  grace,  a  constant  and  serious 
care  for  the  prosperity  of  Zion,  forethought  in  the  ar- 
rangements and  appointments  of  the  preachers,  a  soul 
drawn  out  in  ardent  prayer  for  the  universal  Church,  and 
the  complete  triumph  of  Christ  over  all  the  earth." 

As  an  evidence  of  his  sincere  attachment  and  disinter- 
estedness, it  may  be  remarked,  that  he  never  made  an 
appointment  of  any  of  the  preachers  either  with  a  view  to 
afflict  them  or  to  gratify  any  feelings  of  personal  preju- 
dice" on  the  one  hand,  or  of  affection  on  the  other,  nor 
would  he  allow  such  influences  from  his  council  to  beai 
upon  the  appointment  of  any  of  the  preachers. 

The  preachers  were  dear  to  his  heart,  and  he  daih 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  391 

m;\de  them  the  subject  of  his  prayers  and  tenderest  solic- 
itude To  his  care  for  the  preachers  might  be  added  the 
care  of  all  the  Churches.  By  correspondence  and  other- 
wise, when  he  could  not  visit  them  personally,  he  kept 
himself  posted  in  regard  to  all  the  interests  of  Zion.  The 
conferences  then  were  usually  seasons  of  great  religious 
interest,  and  as  the  miscellaneous  business  was  small  at 
that  time  compared  with  the  present,  the  regular  minute 
business  was  soon  dispatched,  and  more  time  was  allowed 
for  religious  exercises. 

The  worth  of  souls  lay  near  his  heart,  and  he  was  not 
satisfied  unless  he  was  conscious  sinners  were  awakened 
and  converted  through  his  instrumentality.  Once,  after 
having  traveled  hard  throuoh  a  western  wilderness,  to 
reach  a  quarterly  meeting  on  his  way  to  a  distant  confer- 
ence, he  was  unusually  tempted  at  not  having  seen,  for 
some  time,  any  direct  evidence  of  his  personal  labor  in 
the  conversion  of  souls.  He  felt  inclined  to  the  belief 
that  his  mission  had  expired,  and  he  had  better  retire  from 
the  work.  With  this  depression  of  spirit  he  entered  the 
love-feast  on  Sabbath  morning,  in  a  rude  log  chapel  in  the 
woods,  and  took  his  seat,  unknown  to  any,  in  the  back 
part  of  the  congregation.  After  the  usual  preliminary 
exercises  had  been  gone  through  with  by  the  preacher,  an 
opportunity  was  given  for  the  relation  of  Christian  expe- 
rience. One  after  another  testified  of  the  saving  grace 
of  God,  and  occasionally  a  verse  of  some  hymn  was  sung, 
full  of  rich  and  touching  melody.  The  tide  of  religious 
feeling  was  rising  and  swelling  in  all  hearts,  while  a  lady 
rose  whose  plain  but  exceedingly  neat  attire  indicated  that 
she  was  a  Methodist.  Her  voice  was  full  and  clear, 
though  slightly  tremulous.  She  had  traveled  many  miles 
to  the  meeting,  and  her  feelings  would  not  allow  her  to 
repress  her  testimony.  She  remarked  that  she  had  nut 
long  been  a  follower  of  Christ.     "  Two  years  ago,"  saiu 


393  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

she,  "  I  was  attracted  to  a  Methodist  meeting  in  ou: 
neighborhood  by  being  informed  that  Bishop  Asbury  was 
going  to  pre'ach.  I  went,  and  the  Spirit  sealed  the  truth 
he  uttered  on  my  heart.  I  fled  to  Jesus,  and  found  re- 
demption in  his  blood,  even  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins, 
and  have  been  happy  in  his  love  ever  since. 

1  Not  a  cloud  doth  arise  to  darken  my  skies, 
Or  hide  for  a  moment  my  Lord  from  my  eyes.'  " 

She  sat  down,  and  ere  the  responses  which  her  remarks 
had  awakened  in  all  parts  of  the  house  had  died  away, 
Bishop  Asbury  was  on  his  feet.  He  commenced  by  re- 
marking that  "he  was  a  stranger  and  pilgrim,  halting  on 
his  way  for  rest  and-  refreshment  in  the  house  of  God, 
and  that  he  had  found  both;  and,"  said  he,  with  uplifted 
hands,  while  tears  of  joy  coursed  each  other  freely  dowr- 
his  face,  "if  I  can  only  be  instrumental  in  the  conversion 
of  one  soul  in  traveling  round  the  continent,  I'll  trave) 
round  it  till  I  die." 

As  an  Englishman,  he  loved  his  father-land,  and  fre- 
quently expressed  his  grief  at  the  war  which  then  existed 
between  England  and  the  United  States;  yet  he  had 
adopted  the  latter,  and,  though  many  of  the  preachers 
had  returned  to  England,  unwilling  to  sympathize  with 
the  cause  of  American  liberty,  he  warmly  espoused  it, 
and  was  firm  *in  his  adherence  to  the  republicanism  of 
Washington.  On  the  occasion  of  receiving  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Wesley  on  the  subject  of  the  war,  he  remarks,  fi  I 
am  extremely  sorry  that  the  venerable  man  ever  dipped 
into  the  politics  of  America.  My  desire  is  to  live  in  love 
and  peace  with  all  men,  to  do  them  no  harm,  but  all  the 
good  I  can.  However,"  he  adds,  "it  discovers  Mr.  Wes 
ley's  attachment  to  the  government  under  which  he  lives. 
Had  he  been  a  subject  of  America,  no  doubt  he  would 
hnve  been  as  zealous  an  advocate  of  the  American  cause. 
But  some  inconsiderate  persons  have   taken  occasion  to 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  303 

censure  the  Methodists  in  America  on  account  of  Mr 
Wesley's  political  sentiments."  As  a  further  evidence  of 
his  republicanism,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  at  the  New 
York  conference  in  1789  he  offered  for  the  consideration 
of  that  body  the  following  proposal;  namely,  "Whether 
it  would  not  be  proper  for  us,  as  a  Church,  to  present  a 
congratulatory  address  to  General  Washington,  who  has 
been  lately  inaugurated  President  of  the  United  States,  in 
which  should  be  embodied  our  approbation  of  the  Consti- 
tution, and  professing  our  allegiance  to  the  government.'* 
To  this  the  conference  unanimously  acceded,  and  an  ad- 
dress was  prepared  and  read  by  Asbury  to  Washington 
and  his  cabinet.  To  this  address  the  President  made  a 
reply,  expressive  of  thanks  for  the  stand  taken  by  the 
Church  in  the  cause  of  American  liberty.  The  address 
and  the  answer  were  published  in  the  papers  of  the  day, 
and  soon  after  other  Churches  followed  the  example. 

For  Washington  the  Bishop  had  a  high  regard,  which 
was  strengthened  by  a  personal  acquaintance  of  many 
years ;  and  when  the  sad  intelligence  came  to  him  that  the 
father  of  his  country  was  no  more,  he  entered  the  follow- 
ing in  his  journal : 

"  Slow  moved  the  northern  post  on  the  eve  of  New- 
Year's  day,  and  brought  the  heart-distressing  information 
of  the  death  of  Washington,  who  departed  this  life  De- 
cember 14,  1797.  Washington,  the  calm,  intrepid  chief, 
the  disinterested  friend,  first  father,  and  temporal  savior 
of  his  country  under  Divine  protection  and  direction !  A 
universal  cloud  sat  upon  the  faces  of  the  citizens  of 
Charleston;  the  pulpits  clothed  in  black;  the  bells  muf- 
fled ;  the  paraded  soldiery ;  a  public  oration  decreed  to  be 
delivered  on  Friday,  fourteenth  of  this  month ;  a  marble 
statue  to  be  placed  in  some  proper  situation ;  these  were 
the  expressions  of  sorrow  and  these  the  marks  of  respect 
paid  by  his  feeling  fellow-citizens  to  the  memory  of  this 


301  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

j/reat  man.  I  am  disposed  to  lose  sight  of  all  but  Wash- 
ington. Matchless  man !  At  all  times  he  acknowledged 
the  providence  of  God,  and  never  was  he  ashamed  of  his 
Redeemer.  We  believe  he  died  not  fearing  death.  In 
his  will  he  ordered  the  manumission  of  all  his  slaves — a 
true  son  of  liberty  in  all  points." 

It  is  with  a  very  ill  grace,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  that  cer- 
tain partisan  theologians  have  charged  the  early  Methodist 
preachers  with  being  opposed  to  the  war  with  Great  Brit- 
ain and  the  republican  principles  of  which  Washington 
was  the  great  champion.  We  admit  that  some  of  them 
did  manifest  opposition,  and  prudently  returned  to  Eng- 
land; but  that  the  great  body  of  them  were  firm  and 
zealous  supporters  of  the  republic,  none  but  the  most 
hopelessly  prejudiced  can  entertain  a  reasonable  doubt. 
With  Asbury,  the  great  apostle  of  Methodism  in  Amer- 
ica, this  was  particularly  the  case,  as  his  whole  history 
abundantly  shows. 

It  is  known  that  the  Bishop  never  married.  This  state 
was  not  to  him,  however,  one  of  choice,  but  necessity, 
and  those  who  hear  his  reasons  for  not  entering  into  the 
marriage  relation  will  be  satisfied  of  the  propriety  of  his 
course.  He  says,  "  If  I  should  die  in  celibacy,  which  I 
think  quite  probable,  I  give  the  following  reasons  for 
what  can  fecarcely  be  called  my  choice.  I  was  called 
in  my  fourteenth  year.  I  began  my  public  exercises  be- 
tween sixteen  and  seventeen;  at  twenty-one  I  traveled; 
at  twenty-six  I  came  to  America.  Thus  far  I  had  reasons 
enough  for  a  single  life.  It  had  been  my  intention  to 
return  to  Europe  at  thirty  years  of  age ;  but  the  war  con- 
tinued, and  it  was  ton  years  before  we  had  settled,  lasting 
peace.  This  was  no  time  to  marry  or  be  given  in  mar- 
riage. At  forty-nine  I  was  ordained  superintendent  or 
bishop  in  America.  Among  the  duties  imposed  upon  me 
by   my   office   was   that  of    traveling   extensively,   and   ] 


REV.    JAMES    B.    EINLEY.  395 

could  hardly  expect  to  find  a  woman  with  grace  enough 
to  enable  her  to  live  but  one  week  out  of  the  fifty- '.wo 
with  her  husband ;  besides,  what  right  has  any  man  to 
take  advantage  of  the  affections  of  a  woman,  make  her 
his  wife,  and,  by  a  voluntary  absence,  subvert  the  whole 
order  and  economy  of  the  marriage  state,  by  separating 
those  whom  neither  God,  nature,  nor  the  requirements  of 
civil  society  permit  long  to  be  put  asunder?  It  is  neither 
just  nor  generous.  I  may  add  to  this,  that  I  had  little 
money,  and  with  this  little  administered  to  the  necessities 
of  a  beloved  mother  till  I  was  fifty-seven.  If  I  have 
done  wrong,  I  hope  God  and  the  sex  will  forgive  me.  It 
is  my  duty  now  to  bestow  the  pittance  I  may  have  tc 
spare  upon  the  widows,  and  fatherless  girls,  and  poor 
married  men." 

Our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  extend  much  further  this 
brief  sketch,  and  we  must,  therefore,  bring  it  to  a  close. 

Coke  and  Whatcoat,  the  colleagues  of  Asbury  in  the 
episcopacy,  had  ceased  from  their  labors  and  entered  into 
rest.  Wesley,  too,  the  venerable  founder  of  Methodism 
and  father  in  God  of  the  Church,  had  closed  his  long  and 
laborious  career  upon  earth,  and  entered  upon  the  rest 
and  blessedness  of  heaven.  Asbury  stood  alone,  like  a 
venerable  tree  left  by  the  woodman's  ax  to  proclaim  the 
ancient  glory  of  the  forest.  Incessant  traveling  on  horse- 
back an  average  of  five  thousand  miles  a  year,  exposed  to 
all  the  changes  of  climate  and  variations  of  temperature, 
together  with  the  immense  anxiety  growing  out  of  the 
care  of  all  the  Churches,  in  labors  more  abundant,  if  pos- 
sible, than  the  tireless  Wesley,  preyed  heavily  upon  his 
constitution. 

After  he  had  passed  his  "threescore  and  ten,"  he 
transferred  to  the  gifted  M'Kendree  the  principal  burden 
of  visiting  the  conferences.  As  it  is  interesting  to  trace 
*he   religious  experience   of   this  venerable  man,   in    hi* 


396  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

journal  we  find  the  following :  "  My  soul  is  blessed  with 
continual  consolation  and  peace  in  all  my  great  weakness 
of  body,  labor,  and  crowds  of  company.  I  am  a  debtor 
to  the  whole  continent,  but  more  especially  to  the  north- 
east and  south-west.  It  is  there  I  usually  gain  health, 
and  generally  lose  in  the  south  and  center.  I  have  vis- 
ited the  south  thirty  times  in  thirty-one  years.  I  wish  to 
visit  Mississippi,  but  am  resigned.  My  eyes  fail.  I  will 
resign  the  stations  to  Bishop  M'Kendree.  It  is  the  fifty- 
fifth  year  of  my  ministry  and  forty-fifth  year  of  labor  in 
America.  I  die  daily ;  but  my  consolations  are  great.  I 
live  in  God  from  moment  to  moment."  This  was  his  last 
entry  in  his  journal.  How  like  the  sun  at  its  setting  did 
his  mind  expand  with  holy  emotions  and  benevolent  sym- 
pathies !  The  mellow  light  of  his  experience  and  exam- 
ple shone  out  clearly  and  calmly  over  the  goodly  tents  of 
Jacob  as  he  was  gently  sinking  into  rest. 

In  the  sunny  south,  on  the  21st  of  March,  1816,  on  a 
bright  and  beautiful  Sabbath,  the  dying  patriarch  was 
seen  to  raise  his  hands  when  speech  had  failed,  as  a  token 
of  victory  through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  then, 
reclining  his  head  upon  the  faithful  Bond,  his  traveling 
companion,  without  a  struggle  he  breathed  his  last — 

"  As  fades  the  summer  cloud  away — 
As  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er." 

The  personal  appearance  of  Bishop  Asbury  presented 
nothing  remarkable.  His  form  was  slight,  but  erect,  and 
hence  dignified  and  graceful.  He  had  a  vigorous  consti- 
tution, and  hence  an  elastic  step.  His  eye  was  stern  and 
bright.  His  countenance  was  strongly  marked,  with  fea- 
tures expressive  of  decision,  energy,  sagacity,  and  benig- 
nity, shaded,  at  times,  by  an  expression  of  deep  anxiety, 
if  not  depression.  And,  to  conclude  in  the  language  of 
one  in  regard  to  his  character,  "  His  parallel  for  practical 
sense  and  practical  energy  can  scarcely  be  found.     As  a 


KEY.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  307 

ruler  of  state  or  a  commander  of  armies  he  would  have 
ranked  among  the  greatest  men  of  history ;  and  if  ever  an 
impartial  ecclesiastical  history  of  this  nation  is  written, 
Francis  Asbury,  as  well  for  his  personal  character  as  foi 
being  the  chief  founder  of  its  largest  religious  organiza- 
tion, will  occupy  a  position  in  it  above  the  competition  of 
at 7  other  name  whatsoever." 


3i*S  ATTOBIOGEAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

SKETCH    OF    BISHOP    m'kENDREE. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  the  camp  meeting  which  1 
attended  in  the  summer  of  1809,  on  the  farm  of  the  Rev. 
John  Collins,  on  the  east  fork  of  the  Little  Miami.  To 
this  meeting  the  tribes  of  Methodism  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  repaired.  It  was  the  annual  celebration  of  the 
feast  of  tabernacles,  under  the  Christian  dispensation.  I 
had  passed  the  Red  Sea  of  repentance,  and  the  wilderness 
of  doubt  and  uncertainty,  and  now  I  was  prepared  to  take 
my  family,  and  tabernacle  on  Mount  Zion  with  the  people 
of  God.  The  distance  we  had  to  travel  was  about  thirty 
miles,  mostly  through  an  unbroken  forest.  It  cost  some- 
thing then  to  enjoy  the  means  of  grace;  not  too  much, 
however,  for  their  value.  When  obtained,  they  were  ap- 
preciated in  proportion  to  their  cost,  and  richly  enjoyed. 
In  good  season  we  arrived.  Just  before  reaching  the  con- 
secrated spot,  our  attention  was  arrested  by  the  clear  and 
melodious  strains  of  the  children  of  Zion,  singing  thai 
memorable  camp  meeting  song, 

"  Stop,  poor  sinner,  stop  and  think, 
Before  jrou  further  go; 
Will  you  sport  upon  the  brink 
Of  everlasting  woe?" 

A  large  number  of  people  had  collected  already  upon 
the  ground,  and  had  pitched  their  neat,  white  canvas 
tents.  The  preachers'  stand  was  filled  with  ministers,  the 
most  of  whose  faces  were  familiar  to  me.  There  was  one, 
however,  who  was  a  stranger.  He  had  a  noble,  digni- 
fied appearance,  and  seemed  to  be  somewhat  above  the 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  309 

common  stature.  He  was  evidently  in  his  prime,  though 
beyond  the  middle  age  of  life.  His  voice  had  a  sweetness 
and  compass  that  were  remarkable.  There  was  great 
symmetry  in  his  features.  His  forehead  was  expansive ; 
eyes  dark,  but  beaming  with  the  fire  of  intelligence.  Lux- 
uriant rolls  of  dark  hair  covered  his  head,  and  his  genera] 
appearance  would  at  once  impress  a  stranger  with  the  idea 
of  his  being  an  extraordinary  man. 

When  he  rose  to  give  out  the  hymn,  every  eye  was 
turned  toward  and  riveted  upon  him.  Indeed,  I  felt  as 
if  some  supernatural  being  was  going  to  address  us.  The 
hymn  being  sung  we  kneeled  down  for  prayer ;  and  such  an 
address  to  the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace  I  never  heard 
before.  There  was  a  simplicity  and  earnestness  about  it 
truly  surprising.  It  seemed  as  though  he  was  talking- 
face  to  face  with  God,  as  a  child  with  its  father.  Every 
heart  was  interested  in  that  prayer,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
heaven  had  come  down  to  earth. 

When  he  arose  he  announced  for  his  text  John  iv,  24: 
"God  is  a  Spirit,  and  they  that  worship  him  must  wor- 
ship him  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  Every  word  that  fell 
from  the  lips  of  the  sainted  M'Kendree  was  devoured 
by  the  eager  multitude.  There  was  but  one  mind  and  one 
heart.  That  one  mind  received  all  the  truths  that  were 
uttered,  and  that  one  heart  beat  responsive  to  those  truths. 
[  can  not  possibly  describe  my  own  feelings  on  the  occa- 
sion. I  had  taken  a  position  in  front  of  the  speaker,  so 
that  I  might  have  a  full  and  uninterrupted  view  of  his 
person.  Never  was  I  so  entertained.  I  could  see  nothing 
but  the  speaker;  I  could  hear  nothing  but  his  voice. 
While  I  listened  I  was  unconsciously  drawn,  as  if  by  some 
magic  spell,  toward  the  preacher;  and  when  he  closed,  to 
my  astonishment  I  found  myself  within  a  few  feet  of  him. 
All  around  me  was  the  most  intense  excitemei.t — loud 
shouts  of  glory  and  cries  for  mercy — yet  I  knew  *t  not,  J 


'400  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

hoard  it  not,  till  the  preacher  ceased,  and  the  charm  was 
broken.  0,  it  was  a  heavenly  time !  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  was  quite  on  the  suburbs  of  glory,  drinking  full 
draughts  from  that  "river  the  streams  whereof  make  glad 
the  city  of  God." 

That  afternoon  brother  Axley  came  to  me  and  said, 
"Bishop  M'Kendree  desires  to  see  you  at  his  tent." 
"But,"  said  I,  "I  have  no  acquaintance  with  him." 
"Then  I  will  introduce  you,"  said  Axley.  So  I  went  to 
the  tent  and  was  introduced.  I  felt  greatly  embarrassed 
on  approaching  the  Bishop;  but  the  ease  and  cordiality 
with  which  he  received  me  at  once  banished  all  my  fears, 
and  inspired  me  with  confidence.  After  brother  Axley 
retired,  he  commenced  conversing  with  me  with  as  much 
familiarity  as  if  he  had  known  me  all  my  life.  He  asked 
me  in  regard  to  my  family,  and  many  other  things,  and 
how  Jong  I  had  been  a  professor  of  religion.  He  also 
asked  me  if  I  had  not  been  exercised  in  regard  to  preach- 
ing  the  Gospel.  Though  a  stranger,  he  gained  at  once  my 
fullest  confidence,  and  I  opened  to  him  all  my  heart,  spoke 
of  my  experience,  conflicts,  trials,  and  frankly  informed 
him  that  I  could  not  think  myself  qualified  for  the  work 
of  the  ministry.  He  then  conversed  with  me  as  man 
never  did  before,  and  as  man  never  can  again.  There 
was  an  overpowering  sweetness  in  his  manner  and  words, 
that  filled  me  with  love  and  reverence  for  the  man  that 
lasted  all  through  his  life.  I  wept  like  a  child,  and  telling 
him  I  was  ignorant,  and  lived  in  the  wilderness  where 
there  was  no  one  to  guide  me,  he  laid  his  hand  gently  on 
my  head  and  said,  "My  son,  be  of  good  cheer;  God  will 
supply  you  with  fathers  and  mothers  in  the  Gospel." 
Such  a  manifestation  of  regard  for  me  completely  over- 
came me,  and  from  that  moment  I  felt  that  this  venerable 
man  would  treat  me  as  a  son  in  the  Gospel ;  and  from  thai 
day  on  till  the  day  of  his  death,  nc  man  lived,  except  my 


RET.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  40J 

hither,  who  had  so  strong  a  hold  upon  my  heart,  and  in 
whom  I  could  so  implicitly  confide,  or  one  whom  I  felt 
myself  so  implicitly  bound  to  obey,  as  this  amiable  minis- 
ter of  Jesus.  I  never  saw  any  thing  during  his  life  whicn 
would  lead  me  to  suppose  that  he  did  not  feel  for  me  as  a 
eon  in  the  Gospel.  Throughout  the  meeting  he  frequently 
called  me  to  his  tent,  and  conversed  with  me  in  the  most 
free  and  unrestrained  manner. 

An  incident  occurred  at  this  camp  meeting  of  a  deeply- 
thrilling  character,  and  one  which  produced  an  entire 
change  in  my  views  in  regard  to  the  qualifications  neces- 
sary to  partake  of  the  holy  communion.  I  supposed  that 
only  such  as  were  converted,  and  were  the  children  of 
God  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus,  were  entitled  to  a  place  at 
the  Lord's  table.  There  accompanied  us  to  the  camp 
meeting  a  young  lady.  To  the  graces  of  her  person,  for 
she  was  charmingly  beautiful,  were  added  a  brilliant  mind. 
She  was  an  amiable  and  lovely  girl,  the  pride  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. Scarcely  had  we  arrived  on  the  ground  ere  she 
was  convicted.  During  Saturday  and  Sunday  she  seemed 
to  be  in  the  most  extreme  agony  of  mind.  Her  prayers 
and  tears  excited  the  sympathy  of  all  hearts. 

On  Monday  morning  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  sup- 
per wras  to  be  administered.     After  singing, 

"Glory  to  God  on  high! 
»   Our  peace  is  made  with  Heaven ; 
The  Son  of  God  came  down  to  die, 
That  we  might  he  forgiven," 

the  ministers  were  all  invited  around  the  table  to  partake 
of  the  holy  emblems.  The  venerable  Bishop  offered  the 
consecratory  prayer,  and  then  distributed  to  the  under 
shepherds  the  bread  and  wine.  It  was  a  deeply-solemn 
time. 

A  solemn  stillness  reigned  around,  only  broken  by  a 
deep  sigh  or  a  half-suppressed  sob,  while  one  after  anothei 

2G 


4Q2  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

o(  that  large  congregation  came  to  celebrate  the  scenes  of 
Gcthsemane  and  Calvary.  Nearly  in  front  of  the  Bishop, 
beyond  the  altar,  stood  the  weeping  penitent,  reclining  her 
head  upon  the  shoulder  of  a  converted  sister,  and  sobbing 
as  if  her  heart  would  break",  while  she  gazed  upon  the 
scene.  Her  appearance  and  manner  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  benevolent  M'Kendree,  and  looking  toward  her 
he  said,  "My  child,  come  here  and  kneel  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross,  and  you  shall  find  mercy." 

"Do  you  think,"  said  she,  through  her  tears,  "so  vile 
a  sinner  as  I  may  venture  to  approach  the  sacramental 
board,  and  take  in  my  unholy  hands  the  emblems  of  the 
Savior's  dying  love?" 

"Yes,  my  child;  it  was  just  for  such  sinners  as  you 
the  blessed  Jesus  died,  and  while  writhing  in  his  last  ago- 
•lies,  he  demonstrated  his  willingness  and  power  to  save 
by  taking  the  penitent  malefactor  with  him  to  heaven." 

"Then  I'll  go  to  Jesus,"  said  she;  and  hurrying  to  the 
table  she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  cried  aloud  to  God. 
With  streaming  eyes  the  Bishop  administered  the  bread ; 
and  just  as  her  lips  tasted  the  wine  of  the  sacramental 
cup,  pardon  was  communicated,  and  heaven  sprung  up  in 
her  heart.  Instantly  she  rose  to  her  feet,  and  her  face 
shining  like  that  of  an  angel,  while,  with  an  eloquence 
that  went  to  every  heart,  she  told  the  simple  story  of  the 
cross,  and  the  wondrous  power  of  Christ  to  save.  All 
seemed  to  partake  of  the  common  joy  of  that  renewed 
spirit. 

The  same  fall  I  was  admitted  into  the  traveling  connec- 
tion, and  every  year,  till  his  last  visit  to  our  conference, 
he.  called  to  see  me,  or  I  was  with  him.  In  1811  he  was 
at  my  camp  meeting  on  Knox  circuit,  in  company  with  his 
venerable  companion,  Bishop  Asbury.  From  this  camp 
meeting  I  accompanied  him  to  Xenia.  On  this  tour  he 
preached  in  Granville,  and  the  Calvinists  sent  him  a  note 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  403 

requesting  him  to  preach  his  principles  in  full.  This  he 
did  to  their  satisfaction ;  and,  in  addition  thereto,  as  a 
work  of  supererogation,  gave  an  exposition  of  Calvinism. 
After  the  discourse,  three  elders  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  came  to  his  lodgings,  and  attacked  him  with  great 
zeal.  In  a  short  time,  however,  they  were  so  completely 
confounded  that  they  went  away  ashamed  of  the  incon- 
sistencies of  their  doctrines.  The  next  evening  he  had  an 
appointment  at  Franklinton,  near  Columbus,  where  he 
preached  in  the  old  log  court-house.  The  ensuing  day 
we  started  on  our  journey  in  the  rain,  and  getting  lost  in 
the  Darby  Plains,  we  wandered  about  all  day,  and  at 
night,  finding  a  cabin,  we  took  up  lodgings. 

No  man,  perhaps,  ever  made  more  rapid  advancements 
in  grace  and  gifts  than  did  M'Kendree.  After  his  conver- 
sion, which  was  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  lie  went 
on  with  giant  strides  from  grace  to  grace.  He  was  evi- 
dently designed  by  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  as  a 
leader  anions  the  armies  of  Israel;  and  after  becoming 
most  thoroughly  acquainted  with  practical  itinerancy  in 
the  wilds  of  the  west,  he  was  prepared  to  enter  upon 
episcopal  duties  and  services  with  a  heart  touched  with 
itinerant  trials. 

The  circumstances  connected  with  the  election  of 
M'Kendree  to  the  episcopacy,  were  of  a  somewhat  inter- 
esting character.  When  he  visited  the  General  confer- 
ence as  a  delegate  from  the  west,  having  been  so  long  ab- 
sent from  the  east,  he  was  not  generally  known.  On  the 
Sabbath  before  the  election  for  a  bishop  was  to  take  place, 
he  was  appointed  to  preach  in  the  Light-street  Church, 
Baltimore. 

''The  house  wras  crowded  with  strangers  in  every  part, 
above  and  below,  eager  to  hear  the  stranger ;  and  among 
others,  most  of  the  members  of  the  General  conference 
were  present,  besides  a  number  of  colored  people,  «vh* 


404  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

occupied  a  second  gallery  in  the  front  end  of  the  church 
Mr.  M'Kendree  entered  the  pulpit  at  the  hour  for  com- 
mencing the  services,  clothed  in  very  coarse  and  homely 
o-arments,  which  he  had  worn  in  the  woods  of  the  west, 
and  after  singing  he  kneeled  in  prayer.  As  was  often  the 
case  with  him  when  he  commenced  his  prayer,  he  seemed 
to  falter  in  his  speech,  clipping  some  of  his  words  at  the 
end,  and  occasionally  hanging  upon  a  syllable  as  if  it  were 
[}  fficult  for  him  to  pronounce  the  word.  I  looked  at  him, 
not  without  some  feelings  of  distrust,  thinking  to  myself, 
*I  wonder  what  awkward  backwoodsman  they  have  put  in 
the  pulpit  this  morning,  to  disgrace  us  with  his  mawkish 
and  uncouth  phraseology.'  This  feeling  of  distrust  did 
not  forsake  me  till  some  minutes  after  he  had  announced 
his  text,  which  contained  the  following  words :  '  For  the 
hurt  of  the  daughter  of  the  people  am  I  hurt ;  I  am  black  ; 
astonishment  hath  taken  hold  on  me.  Is  there  no  balm  in 
Gilead;  is  there  no  physician  there?  Why,  then,  is  not 
the  health  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  recovered?' 
Jeremiah  viii,  21,  22. 

"His  introduction  appeared  tame,  his  sentences  broken 
and  disjointed,  and  his  elocution  very  defective.  He  at 
length  introduced  his  main  subject,  which  was  to  show  the 
spiritual  disease  of  the  Jewish  Church,  and  of  the  human 
family  generally;  and  then  he  entered  upon  his  second 
proposition,  which  was  to  analyze  the  feelings  which  such 
a  state  of  things  awakened  in  the  souls  of  God's  faithful 
embassadors :  but  when  he  came  to  speak  of  the  blessed 
effects  upon  the  heart  of  the  balm  which  God  had  pro- 
vided for  the  'healing  of  the  nations,'  he  seemed  to  enter 
fully  into  the  element  in  which  his  soul  delighted  to  move 
and  have  its  being,  and  he  soon  carried  the  whole  congre- 
gation away  with  him  into  the  regions  of  experimental 
religion. 

"Remarking  upon  the  objections  which  some  would 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  40a 

make  to  the  expression  of  the  feelings  realized  by  a  person 
fully  restored  to  health  by  an  application  of  the  'sorer 
eign  balm  for  every  wound,'  he  referred  to  the  shouts  of 
applause  so  often  heard  upon  our  national  jubilee,  in  com- 
memoration of  our  emancipation  from  political  thralldom, 
and  then  said,  '  How  much  more  cause  has  an  immortai 
soul  to  rejoice  and  give  glory  to  God  for  its  spiritual  de- 
liverance from  the  bondage  of  sin!'  This  was  spoken 
with  a  soul  overflowing  with  the  most  hallowed  and  ex- 
alted feelings,  and  with  such  an  emphasis,  that  it  was  like 
the  sudden  bursting  of  a  cloud  surcharged  with  water. 
The  congregation  was  instantly  overwhelmed  with  a 
shower  of  Divine  grace  from  the  upper  world.  At  first, 
sudden  shrieks,  as  of  persons  in  distress,  were  heard  m 
different  parts  of  the  house ;  then  shouts  of  praise,  and  in 
every  direction  sobs  and  groans.  The  eyes  of  the  peopio 
overflowed  with  tears,  while  many  were  prostrated  upon 
the  floor,  or  lay  helpless  on  the  seats.  A  very  large,  ath- 
letic-looking preacher,  who  was  sitting  by  my  side,  sud- 
denly fell  upon  his  seat,  as  if  pierced  by  a  bullet,  and  I 
felt  my  heart  melting  under  emotions  which  I  could  not 
well  resist. 

"After  this  sudden  shower,  the  clouds  were  dispersed, 
%nd  the  Sun  of  righteousness  shone  out  most  serenely  and 
lelightfully,  producing  upon  all  a  present  consciousness 
of  the  Divine  approbation ;  and  when  the  preacher  de- 
scended from  the  pulpit,  all  were  filled  with  admiration  of 
his  talents,  and  were  ready  to  '  magnify  the  grace  of  God 
in  him,'  as  a  chosen  messenger  of  good  tidings  to  the  lost, 
saying  in  their  hearts,  'This  is  the  man  whom  God  de- 
lights to  honor.'" 

This  sermon,  according  to  the  prediction  of  Bishop  As- 
bury,  secured  his  election. 

No  man  ever  made  more  full  proof  of  his  ministry  than 
did  the  laborious  M'Kendree.     For  twelve  years  he  filled 


406  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

the  office  of  a  presiding  elder,  and  for  nearly  twenty -sever 
years  he  filled  the  more  important  and  responsible  office 
of  bishop.  In  the  midst  of  all  the  trying  scenes  through 
which  he  was  called  to  pass,  he  manifested  the  greatest 
devotion  to  the  Church.  It  may  be  said  of  him,  as  a  pre- 
siding officer,  that  the  utmost  impartiality  characterized 
all  his  official  acts. 

When  it  became  evident  that  the  work  of  this  great  and 
good  man  was  finished,  his  character  shone  out  more  and 
more  clear,  and,  like  the  sun  at  setting,  the  graces  of 
M'Kendree  were  more  fully  developed  as  he  was  nearing 
the  horizon  of  time;  and,  like  that  sun,  which,  on  the  eve 
of  a  calm,  quiet  summer  day,  goes  gently  down  in  a 
cloudless  sky,  so  sweetly  sank  the  dying  saint.  The  lasi 
response  of  this  faithful  watchman  on  Zion's  walls,  tc  his 
companion -watchers,  was,  "All  is  well,  all  is  well/" 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  40i 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

SKETCH     OF     REV.      DAVID     YOUNG. 

The  father  and  mother  of  the  Rev.  David  Young  wer* 
both  of  Scotch  descent.  The  ancestors  of  his  father  be- 
longed to  the  clan  of  the  Campbells,  and  tradition  says  i< 
was  not  for  convenience  but  for  safety  that  they  went  ovei 
to  the  north  of  Ireland;  and  some  century  and  a  half 
since  some  of  them  suffered  extremely  in  the  celebrated 
siege  of  Derry. 

His  grandfather  came  to  North  America,  and  landed  at 
Newcastle,  Delaware,  in  1742,  his  father  then  being  one 
year  old,  and  moved  westward  into  the  neighborhood  of 
Havre  de  Grace,  perhaps  on  the  place  where  Hughes's: 
Iron  Works  were  afterward  erected,  and  which  were 
burned  by  the  British  in  the  last  war. 

His  father  settled  in  Bedford  county,  Virginia,  where 
young  David  was  born,  March  7,  1779,  and  the  next 
year  he  removed  to  Washington  county,  in  the  same 
state,  where  David  was  raised,  in  a  place  and  at  a  time 
where  and  when  religious  privileges  and  experience  were 
very  little  known  or  prized.  His  father  belonged  to  High 
Kirk,  and  his  mother  thought  there  was  nothing  like  the 
Erskines  and  their  secession.  They  both  were  firm  be- 
lievers in  the  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith  and  Fish- 
er's Catechism.  The  old  gentleman  had  a  good  library 
for  the  times,  where  the  son  could  at  least  examine  one 
side  of  the  question  between  Churchmen  and  Dissenters, 
and  Calvinists  and  Arminians,  and  this  he  was  careful  to 
do,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 


408  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

He  was  ta  ight  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Creed,  and 
Catechisms,  both  "shorter"  and  "longer,"  and  he  could 
repeat  them  with  great  fluency  when  quite  a  small  boy. 
This  was  thought  too  wonderful,  and  the  way  he  was 
praised  might  inspire  any  thing  but  humility.  He  says  in 
a  communication  to  me,  "Among  the  earliest  recollections 
of  my  life  the  thoughts  of  invisible  beings  and  agencies 
were  the  most  common  and  important.  The  beings  called 
God  and  devil,  the  places  called  heaven  and  hell,  the 
things  called  death,  judgment,  and  eternity,  were  the 
subjects  of  my  childish  meditations,  thousands  of  times 
before  1  was  five  years  old." 

In  the  summer  of  1786  he  went  to  meeting  with  some 
of  the  family,  and  during  the  first  prayer  was  so  deeply 
convicted  that  he  had  sinned  against  God,  his  King  and 
Savior,  that  his  heart  was  melted,  and  he  wept  in  bitter- 
ness of  soul.  But  shame  quenched  his  feelings  and  tears, 
and  he  relapsed  into  indifference.  From  this  time  till  the 
fall  of  1790  there  was  nothing  very  uncommon  in  the  ex- 
ercises of  his  mind.  At  that  time,  however,  he  was  pow- 
erfully awakened  by  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  though  there 
was  nobody  that  he  knew  who  prayed  in  secret,  yet  it  was 
his  constant  practice  for  nearly  a  year.  Those  were  dark 
times  in  religion.  Possibly,  if  he  had  been  blessed  with 
the  company  of  some  one  to  have  taken  him  by  the  hand 
and  directed  him  in  the  right  way,  he  might  have  been 
kept  from  falling  away.  Many  a  child  no  older  have  I 
seen  happy  in  God's  love,  and  there  is  nothing  to  prevent 
ill  young  children  from  being  truly  pious.  He  brokr 
through  the  restraints  his  parents  imposed,  particularly 
by  desecrating  the  Sabbath  day,  and  made  continuous 
efforts  to  throw  off  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  H« 
did  not,  however,  succeed  in  his  rebellion.  In  February, 
1796,  being  sent  one  evening,  with  some  other  boys,  to 
fix  the  boiling  apparatus  for  making  maple  sugar,  they 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLET.  409 

had  a  brand  of  fire  with  them,  and,  passing  by  an  exceed- 
ingly large  poplar- tree,  whose  roots  projected  far  out  above 
ground,  one  of  them  being  hollow,  they  put  the  fire-brand 
to  an  aperture  seven  or  eight  feet  from  the  trunk,  and  dis- 
covered a  very  strong  draught  of  air  ascending  up  the  hol- 
low tree.  It  suddenly  caught  fire,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
blazed  out  sixty  or  seventy  feet  high,  where  one  of  the 
forks  had  fallen  off  and  left  free  vent  to  the  air.  In  a 
short  space  of  time  brother  Young  lay  down  on  the 
ground  to  peep  in  the  hole,  and  saw  the  lava  running 
down  in  a.  stream  as  thick  as  his  arm.  The  heat  was  so 
intense  that  the  light  partly  blinded  him.  At  that  junc- 
ture the  remaining  fork  of  the  tree,  weakened  by  the  fire, 
snapped  off  with  a  great  noise.  He  sprung  to  his  feet, 
and  ran  with  all  the  speed  that  fear  could  inspire.  By 
the  time  this  great  branch  of  the  tree  struck  the  ground 
he  was  sixty-three  feet  from  the  stump  of  the  poplar, 
having  providentially  passed  under  this  great  half-tree 
beyond  where  its  fork  fell  on  the  ground.  Nothing  struck 
him  except  the  burning  bark,  which  flew  off  and  crushed 
him  down  to  the  earth  amidst  its  fiery  coals.  If  he  had 
lain  still  at  the  root  of  the  tree  no  evil  would  have  be- 
fallen him.  The  other  boys,  however,  came  and  pulled 
him  up  out  of  the  fire.  They  found  him  by  his  groans, 
with  his  clothes  some  burnt,  and  his  hat  cut  through  in 
two  or  three  places,  and  his  head  all  in  a  gore  of  blood, 
together  with  his  collar-bone  broken.  Unprepared  for 
death,  how  narrowly  did  he  escape ! 

His  father  was  a  farmer  in  easy  circumstances,  and 
attended  to  the  education  of  his  children ;  and  so  well  had 
David  improved  his  opportunities,  that  when  time  had 
legally  made  him  his  own  master,  he  taught  a  grammar 
school  two  years  in  Hawkins  and  Sullivan  counties,  Tenn. 

On  the  27th  of  June,  1803,  he  left  his  father's,  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  went  to  what  wras  then  called  the  "far  west/' 


±10  AUTOBIOGKAPHY    OF 

now  Middle  Tennessee.  Sunday,  August  14th,  the  Meth 
odists  had  a  quarterly  meeting  on  Mill  creek,  near  Green 
Hills,  where  were  assembled  a  strange  mixture  of  people. 
Among  the  rest  were  what  have  since  been  called  the 
''Cumberland  Presbyterians,"  who  seemed  to  be  as  nu- 
merous and  as  busy  as  the  others.  It  was  impossible  to 
tell  who  had  the  direction  of  the  meeting;  but  they 
preached  and  prayed  very  well.  David,  however,  left  on 
Tuesday,  and  went  to  a  dance. 

Afterward,  while  riding  all  alone,  thinking  about  the  late 
quarterly  meeting,  he  meditated  on  some  of  the-  awkward 
expressions  in  the  prayers  of  the  new  converts.  His  pride 
said,  or  the  devil  told  him,  that  he  could  pray  better  him- 
self. So  he  made  a  form  of  prayer  for  them,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  putting  his  form  into  words.  At  that  moment 
this  query  rushed  into  his  mind,  "What  are  you  doing?" 
This  inquiry  turned  a  pleasant  evening  into  gloomy  hor- 
ror, and,  in  lieu  of  making  prayers  for  others,  he  began  to 
pray  for  himself  with  all  the  faith  and  earnestness  in  his 
power,  accompanied  with  a  flood  of  tears.  From  this 
time  he  prayed  morning  and  evening,  with  strange  and 
indescribable  feelings  and  opposition.  A  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  he  was  afraid  to  pray  near  the  people's 
houses,  lest  he  should  be  seen ;  he  dare  not  go  far  off,  lest 
the  snakes  in  the  cane-brake  would  bite  him  ;  and  when  he 
went  out  into  the  lanes  the  devil  made  use  of  the  horned 
cattle  to  drive  him  from  his  devotions.  Previously  the 
Lord  had  converted  some  of  his  relations  who  dwelt  in 
Western  Tennessee.  WThen  he  got  among  them  he  waa 
encouraged.  Attending  their  meetings,  when  called  on 
he  prayed  with  and  for  them,  though  his  own  sins  were 
not  yet  forgiven.  His  poor  soul  was  in  great  distress, 
and  his  constant  cry  was,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?" 
He  strove  about  twenty-seven  days  to  "enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate."     His  heart  condemned  him,  and  he  knew  that  "  God 


REV.    JAMES     B.    FIN  LEY.  41] 

was  greater  than  his  heart,"  and  would  also  condemn  him 
With  these  views  and  feelings  he  went  to  another  "big 
meeting,"  as  they  were  then  called,  Friday,  September 
16th,  and  Sunday,  18th.  There  was  a  mighty  shaking 
among  the  people,  while  he  stood  condemned,  distressed, 
and  in  the  agonies  of  indescribable  anguish,  not  to  say 
distraction.  He  could  neither  sleep  nor  eat,  under  an  im- 
pression, right  or  wrong,  that  unless  he  obtained  peace 
with  God  before  the  meeting  closed,  he  must  perish  eter- 
nally. God,  who  pities  the  distressed,  pitied  him,  and  en- 
abled him,  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  to  trust  in  his  blood. 
He  was  astonished  at  the  effects  of  simple  faith,  and  was 
transported  with  the  joys  of  believing. 

On  the  19th  of  September,  1803,  between  nine  and 
ten  o'clock,  A.  M.,  the  Lord  spoke  peace  to  his  soul.  He 
walked  out  in  the  woods,  and  the  trees  reminded  him  of 
this  injunction,  "Clap  your  hands!"  All  nature  seemed 
joyous,  and,  as  grace  had  brought  peace  and  harmony  to 
his  heart,  so  all  visible  objects  seemed  to  partake  of  the 
blissful  change.  Christians  need  not  expect,  however,  to 
be  exactly  alike  in  their  experience.  Luther  and  Bunyan 
in  this  respect  differed  widely  from  most  of  their  followers 
who  were  real  Christians. 

Being  desirous  to  see  his  parents,  he  returned  to  his 
father's  in  Virginia,  on  the  last  day  of  October,  1803, 
ripped  off  his  ruffles,  and  cut  off  his  long  hair,  and  re- 
mained in  that  vicinity  a  few  weeks,  an  astonishment  and 
a  by-word  to  all  his  former  acquaintance.  He  returned  to 
Tennessee,  and  resumed  his  occupation,  April  1,  1804, 
and  pursued  the  business  of  teaching  till  admitted  into 
the  traveling  connection.  But  during  this  period  his 
mental  exercises  were  powerful,  mostly  with  respect  to 
his  call  to  preach  the  Gospel.  Many  an  anxious  day  and 
sleepless  night  did  he  pass  through.  These  conflicts  were 
mostly  like  other  men's,  perhaps,  except  that  he  wa.«  more 


412  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

unyielding than  common;  for  it  is  certain  he  never  would 
have  been  a  Methodist  preacher  if  he  had  not  believed  that 
his  soul  would  be  lost  unless  he  became  one.  His  under- 
standing and  conscience  forbade  him  being  any  thing  else. 
His  mother,  sister,  and  brother  William  were  all  happily 
converted  to  God  during  the  summer  of  1804,  which 
served  as  an  incentive  to  his  piety.  In  this  year  that 
strange  disorder  "the  jerks"  overran  all  Western  Ten- 
nessee. It  attacked  the  righteous  and  the  wicked — an 
involuntary  muscular  exercise,  which  drew  the  subjects 
affected  backward  and  forward  with  a  force  and  quick- 
ness perhaps  previously  unknown  to  the  human  family. 
Five  hundred  of  these  subjects  might  sometimes  be  seen 
in  one  congregation,  all  in  various  motion,  from  twitching 
the  head  up  to  bending  the  whole  body — first  backward, 
and  then  forward,  the  head  nearly  touching  the  ground 
forward  and  backward  alternately.  Some  people  thought 
it  belonged  to,  if  it  did  not  make  a  part  of,  the  Christian 
religion,  others  that  it  was  the  work  of  the  devil;  and 
brother  Young  thought  that  the  devil  had  a  hand  therein, 
to  bring  religion  into  disrepute. 

The  wildness  which  seems  to  have  been  generated 
about  Cane  Ridge,  Kentucky,  spread  down  south  in  com- 
pany with  the  jerks,  having  first  made  Newlights,  as 
Stone  and  Purviance,  and  Shakers,  as  Dunlevy  and 
M'Nemar.  At  the  same  time  the  Methodists  and  Pres- 
byterians had  a  kind  of  union,  based  on  the  opinion,  it 
would  seem,  that  every  body  would  suddenly  be  good, 
and  Disciplines  and  Creeds  would  be  needed  no  more. 
The  Methodists  revived  their  Discipline,  and  saved  most 
of  their  people.  The  Newlights  and  Shakers  made  havoc 
with  the  Presbyterians,  and  what  is  now  called  the 
"Cumberland  Presbyterians"  made  a  great  breach  in  the 
Church. 
Rutherford  county,  where  he  resided,  was  a  frontier  set 


U  E  V  .    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  413 

tlement  at  that  time ;  so  he  was  graciously  almost  out  of 
the  noise  and  hearing  of  all  religious  tumults.  Their  mis- 
fortune was,  to  have  almost  no  kind  of  religion  in  their 
neighborhood;  so  they  tried  to  preach,  exhort,  and  pray, 
James  Rucker  and  himself.  God  owned  their  endeavors, 
and  there  were  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  who  professed 
religion  on  Stone's  river  and  Smith's  Fork  during  the 
summer  of  1805;  but  they  were  not  in  the  Church;  so 
they  got  one  of  the  Nashville  circuit  preachers  to  come 
out  and  form  them  into  classes,  pledging  himself  to  take 
them  into  the  circuit  next  year.  Being  recommended  by 
one  of  these  classes,  without  quarterly  meeting,  circuit, 
or  station,  brother  Young  was  admitted  on  trial  in  the 
traveling  connection  by  the  following  document ;  namely : 

"  To  David  Young, — You  think  it  your  duty  to  call 

sinners  to  repentance.     Make  full   proof  hereof,   and  wc 

shall  rejoice  to  receive  you  as  a  fellow-laborer. 

"  Lewis  Garret,    j 
"  September  7,  1805." 

This  may  be  a  literary  curiosity  to  some  of  the  bovs 
of  the  present  day,  who  think  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  can  not  make  a  traveling  preacher  unless  they 
first  localize  him.  The  next  Western  conference  sat  in 
Scott  county,  Kentucky,  October  2,  1805,  at  which  he  was 
appointed  to  Salt  River  and  Shelby  circuit.  But  Wayne 
circuit  having  but  one  preacher  on  it,  brother  Young  was 
changed  to  Wayne  circuit,  in  the  south  side  of  Kentucky. 
This  was  done  by  the  concurrence  of  William  Burke  and 
William  M'Kendree,  as  the  case  seemed  absolutely  to 
require  it.  On  the  last  week  in  October,  a  sacramental 
meeting  was  held  at  the  Beach  meeting-house,  near 
William  M' Gee's,  Western  Tennessee,  where  he  first  saw 
that  great  and  good  man,  William  M'Kendree,  whose 
equal  in  every  respect  has  not  vet  adorned  the  Methodist 


414  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

Episcopal  Church;  and  yet,  by  some  fatality,  no  man 
furnishes  us  with  his  memoirs.  He  gave  him  the  plan  of 
his  circuit,  and  on  the  first  Thursday  in  November,  1 805, 
he  met  his  first  appointment,  as  a  traveling  preacher,  at 
Manoah  Lassley's,  on  Green  river,  Kentucky. 

His  colleague — William  Ellington — was  a  very  good- 
natured,  easy  kind  of  a  man.  Their  circuit  swarmed  with 
Newlights  and  Freewill  Baptists.  Ellington  let  them  all 
stay  in  class  meeting,  but  brother  Young  turned  them  all 
out;  and  this  made  Ellington  popular,  and  they  ran  to  him 
with  their  complaints,  and  even  carried  them  up  to  M'Ken- 
dree,  their  presiding  elder.  On  examination  of  the  circum- 
stances, the  presiding  elder  ordered  brother  Young  to  take 
charge  of  the  circuit,  despite  of  all  remonstrance.  Elling- 
ton was  delighted,  but  brother  Young  was  alarmed  at  hav- 
ing  the  charge  of  a  circuit.  There  were  a  great  number 
dropped  and  expelled  on  the  circuit  this  year,  but  the 
Lord  made  up  all  their  losses  with  a  small  increase  of 
numbers.  His  health  was  not  very  good,  but  his  appoint- 
ments were  all  filled,  averaging  thirty  each  and  every  four 
weeks  throughout  the  year. 

During  this  appointment  the  following  persons  were 
licensed  to  exhort:  Lewis  Anderson,  J.  T.  Williams,  Wil- 
liam Lewis,  and  Isaac  M'Kowen,  all  of  whom  were  after- 
ward traveling  preachers. 

Isaac  M'Kowen's  mother  was  a  widuw,  and  her  house 
a  preaching-place,  at  which  brother  Young  had  an  appoint- 
ment on  the  day  of  the  total  eclipse,  in  1806.  When  it 
began  to  grow  dark,  the  ignorant  Dutch  and  Irish  inhab- 
itants of  the  neighborhood  ran  to  meeting,  some  for  the 
first  time,  not  waiting  to  change  clothes,  or  put  on  their 
shoes;  and  before  preaching  closed,  the  house  and  the 
yard  were  filled  with  the  worst-frightened  congregation 
that  ever  was  seen.  The  preacher  exhorted  them  to  be 
religious,  and  escape  the  "blackness  of  darkness  forever." 


KEV.    JAMES    B.     ^L\LEir.  4]  5 

He  visited  his  parents  in  Virginia,  and  returned  to  the 
annual  conference,  which  assembled  at  Ebenezer  Noli- 
chucky's,  East  Tennessee,  September  15,  1806. 

It  was  at  this  conference  the  celebrated  propositions 
and  services  of  Dr.  Coke,  as  bishop  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  were  rejected. 

His  next  appointment  was  to  Levingston  circuit,  Ken- 
tucky, extending  from  Hopkinsville  to  Tennessee  river,  and 
from  the  Ohio  river  south  to  Clarksburg,  Tennessee,  a 
district  too  large  for  a  modern  presiding  elder,  and  a  dis- 
tance to  reach  it  of  seven  degrees  of  longitude — at  least 
five  hundred  miles.  Crazy  Kate  said,  "The  Lord  tem- 
pers the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb;"  it  must  be  so,  for 
where  are  the  men  and  horses  now  that  would  perform 
such  journeys? 

Before  getting  once  round  his  circuit,  he  was  taken 
with  severe  chills  every  day,  alternated  with  violent  fevers. 
The  chills  ceased,  and  the  fever  increased  for  two  weeks, 
when  he  fell  into  a  kind  of  stupor,  partly  senseless,  unless 
roused  up;  and  then  he  lay  four  weeks  longer,  neither 
doctor  nor  friends  expecting  him  to  live.  For  nine  weeks 
he  never  saw  the  sun.  When  he  began  to  mend  the  blood 
had  ceased  to  circulate  in  his  feet  and  ankles;  and  when 
it  again  began  to  circulate,  such  twinging,  prickling,  and 
excessive  pain  he  says  he  never  felt  before  or  since. 

This  was  the  first  time  he  ever  had  the  ague,  but  he  had 
it  more. or  less  every  one  of  the  next  nine  years. 

It  was  a  kind  providence  toward  him  that  he  fell  sick  at 
old  brother  Meanly's.  It  was  a  very  kind  family  of  pious 
people.  They  took  care  of  him  as  though  he  had  been  one 
of  themselves,  for  which  may  God  reward  them  in  time 
and  eternity !  The  old  gentleman's  son  John  was  after- 
ward a  traveling  preacher.  While  he  lay  at  Meanly's, 
M'Kendree,  his  presiding  elder,  came  to  see  him.  He 
asked  him  to  write  his  will.     Having  told  him  what  dis 


410  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

position  was  to  be  made  of  his  farms  and  personal  prop- 
erty, he  began  talking  wild,  and  told  him  what  he  wished 
done  with  a  boat-load  of  ingots  of  silver,  which  he  imag- 
ined was  coming  from  South  America  by  way  of  New 
Orleans.  At  the  mention  of  this  last  subject  M'Kendrce 
threw  down  the  pen  and  burst  into  tears,  which  roused 
him  up.  The  good  man  was  not  only  sorry  because  he 
was  sick,  but  he  was  exceedingly  grieved  at  his  being 
delirious. 

Near  Meanly's,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  town  of  Do- 
ver, only  across  the  Cumberland  river,  on  the  highest 
eastern  bluff,  there  was  a  curious  Indian  burying-ground. 
with  only  six  graves  in  it.  Each  of  these  graves  was 
.ined  with  four  stones — a  head  and  foot,  and  two  long 
side-stones,  measuring  from  seven  and  a  half  to  eight  feet 
for  each  grave.  The  edges  of  these  gravestones  seemed 
as  if  they  had  been  placed  even  with  the  surface,  and  sub- 
sequent winds  had  blown  away  six  inches  of  the  upper- 
soil.  Each  stone  was  cut  at  right  angles,  and  was  well 
dressed  with  some  kind  of  tools.  There  were  no  rocks  of 
the  same  quality  known  to  be  in  all  that  region  of  coun- 
try.    Here  brother  Young  would  wander  to  meditate. 

He  was  in  tolerable  health  through  the  summer,  and 
had  some  prosperity  in  his  own  soul,  and  some  increase 
on  his  circuit.  In  that  place  lived  the  father  of  Petei 
Cartwright,  and  the  mother  of  E.  Wilcox,  his  half-brother. 

In  one  of  the  most  populous  settlements  on  this  cir- 
cuit, there  were  two,  classes,  and,  of  course,  two  leaders. 
The  classes  were  not  very  religious,  except  when  they 
were  at  meeting ;  then  they  were  exceedingly  noisy.  The 
leaders  were  both  drunken ;  so  when  S.  got  drunk,  he 
posted  away  to  M'C.'s,  confessed,  and  got  forgiven;  and 
when  M'C.  got  drunk,  he  hastened  to  S.,  and  he  foigave 
him.  They  quoted  Scripture  for  all — claimed  rights  sev- 
enty times  seven.    He  could  not  begin  to  administer  disci- 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLE*.  417 

pline  without  removing  these  leaders;  and  it  was  like  lead- 
ers, like  members ;  so  they  did  not  want  new  leaders,  and 
would  not  turn  out  the  old  ones  for  getting  drunk;  but 
referring  their  cases  to  quarterly  meeting  conference,  they 
got  rid  of  the  principal  inebriates,  and  the  few  good  mem- 
bers rejoiced  and  increased  greatly,  not  only  in  that  soci- 
ety, but  generally  on  the  circuit.  They  excluded  over  one 
hundred,  yet  they  had  a  net  increase  of  more  than  fifty. 

This  fall,  conference  was  appointed  at  Chilicothe, 
Ohio,  September  14,  1807.  On  his  way  thither  he  fell 
sick  in  Lexington.     The  preachers  left  him,  and  in  a  few 

days  he  rode  out  to  brother  H 's,  twelve  miles,  where 

liis  fever  increased,  till  he  believed  the  family  thought  he 
must  die.  They  were  afraid,  as  it  got  spread  through  the 
neighborhood  that  his  disease  was  contagious;  and  had 
it  not  been  for  a  good  old  sister  G.,  who  came  to  see  him, 
he  might  have  died ;  but  she  went  home  and  got  her 
husband  to  bring  a  two-horse  hack,  with  a  bed  in  it,  and 
take  him  home  with  him,  where  he  was  very  kindly  nursed 
a  whole  month,  till  able  to  ride. 

Thus  far  my  old  friend  and  brother  has  furnished  me 
with  a  sketch  of  his  past  history.  His  subsequent  history 
is  the  history  of  the  Church  in  the  west ;  for  he  has  been 
identified  with  all  her  movements.  His  mature  judgment 
and  well-cultivated  mind  enabled  him  to  render  good 
service  to  the  Church  in  all  her  ecclesiastical  councils. 

Brother  Young  is  still  living,  although  much  advanced, 
and  quite  feeble,  being  in  his  seventy-fifth  year.  The 
personal  appearance  of  brother  Young  is  somewhat  pe- 
culiar, and  would  strike  a  stranger  with  a  little  surprise  as 
he  would  gaze  upon  his  tall,  slender,  and  perfectly-erect 
form,  his  sharp  and  expressive  features,  a  keen  and  piercing 
ey€,  rather  deeply  seated  in  his  forehead,  and  the  luxuriant 
folds  of  hair  of  snowy  whiteness,  which  fall  down  over  his 
shoulders.  As  a  minister  he  always  ranked  far  above  ine- 
27 


418  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

diocrity.  When  in  his  prime  few  had  greater  power  in  the 
pulpit.  His  mind  possessed  great  vigor  and  reach  of 
thought;  and  had  he  devoted  himself  to  writing,  his  pro- 
ductions would  have  exhibited  great  terseness  and  power. 
For  many  years  he  rilled  the  office  of  presiding  elder, 
always  attending  his  appointments  with  the  precision  of 
clock-work.  He  has  for  a  long  time  been  one  of  the  trus- 
tees of  the  Ohio  University,  at  Athens,  and  his  wise  coun- 
sels in  that  board  have  always  been  appreciated  by  his  co- 
temporaries.  As  it  regards  his  habits,  it  may  be  said,  no 
minister  ever  had  better,  and  none  ever  observed  them 
more  closely.  But  few  of  the  old  pioneer  fathers  remain. 
OnQ  by  one  they  are  falling  around  us;  and  here  ana 
there  we  find  them  standing  in  our  midst,  like  the  few  an- 
cient trees  of  the  forest,  to  tell  what  was  its  ancient  glo?y. 


KEY.    JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  419 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

SKETCH    OF    REV.    JOHN   P.    FINLEY. 

The  Rev.  John  Patterson  Finley,  my  brother,  was  born 
on  the  13th  of  June,  1783,  in  the  state  of  North  Carolina 
in  September,  1810,  he  received  license  to  preach  in  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Having  received  a  classical 
education,  he  was  early  called  to  take  charge  of  literary 
institutions;  and  from  that  time  till  1822  he  labored  in  thai 
department  with  great  success  in  different  parts  of  the 
state  of  Ohio.  During  this  time,  however,  he  laborea 
much  in  the  pulpit,  and  strove  hard  to  show  himself  ap- 
proved of  God,  "a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be 
ashamed." 

In  1822  he  was  appointed  Professor  of  Languages  in 
Augusta  College,  Kentucky,  the  oldest  Methodist  College 
in  the  west,  now  a  heap  of  smoldering  ruins.  This  insti- 
tution, the  first-born  child  of  the  Church,  cost  much  care 
and  anxiety,  and,  alas!  regrets.  I  have  letters  to  show 
the  part  I  took  in  the  establishment  of  the  institution ;  ay, 
in  the  earliest  incipient  movements  connected  with  it,  and, 
hence,  the  reader  will  indulge  me  in  what  remarks  I  may 
deem  it  proper  to  make. 

Augusta  College,  like  Cokesbury,'  seems  to  have  been 
a  child  of  destiny,  to  have  been  born  under  some  malig- 
nant star.  Patronized  by  the  two  largest  conferences  in 
the  west,  having  a  faculty,  from  time  to  time,  composed 
of  the  brightest  stars  that  shone  in  the  galaxy  of  western 
literature,  such  as  Durbin,  Tomlinson,  Bascora,  Fielding, 
and  others,  and  having  for  her  alumni  a  host  of  talented 
men  in  every  profession,  scattered  all  over  the  country, 


420  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

still,  like  an  ill-guided,  but  richly-freighted  vessel  in  h 
stormy  sea,  she  foundered  and  went  down,  and  the  waters 
closed  over  her  unhappy  fate  forever. 

During  the  connection  of  my  brother  John  with  Au- 
gusta College,  he  was  received  into  the  traveling  connec- 
tion, and,  as  far  as  his  professional  duties  would  allow,  hfe 
preached  the  word,  "instant  in  season  and  out  of  season." 
His  connection  with  this  college  lasted  till  May,  1825, 
when  it  was  terminated  by  death. 

Professor  Bascom,  the  great  pulpit  orator  of  the  west, 
one  of  his  colleagues  in  the  faculty,  and  who  has  himself 
since  passed  away  to  the  world  of  rest,  paid  the  following 
tribute  to  his  memory : 

"I  have  thought  I  could  not  spend  an  hour  more  profit- 
ably, this  evening,  than  in  sketching  a  few  imperfect  no- 
tices of  the  late  Rev.  John  P.  Finley,  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church.  I  became  acquainted  with  the  amia- 
ble and  worthy  subject  of  these  recollections  in  1815. 
From  that  time  to  the  period  of  his  death,  I  possessed  his 
confidence,  and  enjoyed  his  friendship ;  and,  perhaps,  ne 
one  of  his  numerous  friends  knew  his  mind  and  heart  more 
intimately  than  I,  during  a  term  of  nearly  ten  years.  He 
has  frequently  assured  me  that  even  his  own  family  knew 
less  of  him  than  I  did,  and  that  I  had  understood  hi? 
whole  heart.  I  may,  therefore,  be  permitted  to  say  a  few 
things  to  preserve  from  oblivion  the  name  and  services  of 
an  able  minister  of  the  New  Testament,  and  devoted  friend 
of  mankind.  John  P?  Finley  was  certainly  no  ordinary 
man,  whether  we  consider  his  natural  parts,  his  literary 
pretensions,  or  'his  gracious  attainments.  Nature  had 
done  much  for  him.  various  learning  had  largely  contrib- 
uted to  improve  him,  and  Christianity  had  perfected  him 
into  a  model  worthy  of  imitation.  By  nature  he  possessed 
a  strong,  manly,  and  ingenuous  mind ;  his  education  was 
good,  and  well  directed  through  life;  his  Christian  char- 


REV.   JAMES    B.   FINLEY.  421 

acter  was  of  the  first  order;  and  all  conspired  to  rendei 
him  strikingly  interesting,  both  in  and  out  of  the  pulpit. 
liut  as  my  remarks  will  be  almost  entirely  confined  to 
recollection,  I  can  only  furnish  an  imperfect  outline  of  the 
character  of  my  deceased  friend.  It  has  long  been  my  im- 
pression, that  men  of  distinguished  worth  in  our  Church, 
who  have  been  removed  from  their  'labor  of  love'  on  earth, 
have  not  received  those  distinctive  marks  of  respect,  in 
the  official  obituary  notices  of  the  Church,  to  which  they 
have  been  obviously  entitled,  from  the  elevation  of  their 
character,  and  the  nature  and  value  of  their  services ;  and 
I  would  wish,  that  in  all  such  notices,  instead  of  a  general 
and  indiscriminate  commendation  of  piety  and  usefulness, 
our  numerous  readers  might  be  able  to  form  some  accu- 
rate idea  of  the  peculiar  and  distinguishing  attributes  of 
character  in  each  individual,  becoming  the  subject  of  bio- 
graphical report.  If  men,  and  especially  ministers,  are  to 
be  'esteemed  in  love  for  their  works'  sake,'  they  ought 
certainly  to  be  esteemed  and  held  up  to  imitation,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  nature  and  extent  of  their  relative  useful- 
ness, as  well  as  aggregate  worth  of  character.  I  mean  to 
say,  simply,  without  indulging  in  any  thing  censorious,  that 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  living  among  us,  to  report  faithfully, 
and  with  some  particularity,  the  various  usefulness  and 
diversified  excellence  of  the  dead.  In  looking  over,  re- 
cently,  some  scores  of  notices  of  the  death  and  character 
of  our  deceased  ministers,  I  have  observed  a  generality  of 
description,  a  sameness  of  report,  which,  I  fear,  is  calcu- 
lated to  make  an  impression,  unfriendly  to  the  well-known 
fact,  that  we  have  had  in  our  Church  a  great  variety  of 
talent  and  usefulness :  and  certainly  it  belongs  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  Church,  the  biography  of  her  distinguished 
individuals,  to  point  out,  and  clearly  develop,  the  divers- 
ity of  talent,  character,  and  labor,  of  which  we  are  now 
speaking.  .  .  .  But  to  return  to  our  subject. 


122  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

"John  P.  Finley  was  born  in  North  Carolina,  June  13, 
1 783.  From  childhood  he  was  marked  as  possessing  no 
common  share  of  intellect.  He  was  early  placed  at  school, 
and  while  in  his  abecedarian  course,  he  evinced  an  apti- 
tude to  learn,  that  induced  his  father,  a  distinguished  Pres- 
byterian clergyman,  who  is  now,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  a 
Methodist  traveling  preacher,  to  give  him  a  classical  edu- 
cation. -Owing  to  his  habits  of  industry  and  persever- 
ance, he  soon  acquired  a  competent  knowledge  of  the 
sciences,  and  a  reputable  acquaintance  with  the  learned 
languages.  Of  the  English  language  he  was  a  perfect 
master,  and  taught  its  proper  use  with  almost  unrivaled 
success.  From  the  age  of  twelve  or  fourteen  years,  he  was 
often  deeply  affected  with  a  sense  of  sin,  and  the  import- 
ance of  repentance  and  faith ;  but  his  mind  was  so  much 
perplexed  with  the  doctrines  of  absolute  personal  predesti- 
nation, of  which  his  father  was  then  a  strenuous  and  able 
asserter,  that  he  came  to  no  decision  on  the  subject  of 
religious  opinions,  till  he  reached  the  years  of  manhood. 
About  the  age  of  twenty-one  he  married,  and  soon  after 
was  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  salvation  by  the  remission 
of  his  sins.  Early  after  his  conversion,  he  was  convinced 
that  a  'dispensation  of  the  Gospel'  had  been  committed 
to  him.  He  weighed  well  the  impressions  and  convictions 
of  his  mind  and  heart,  in  relation  to  the  fearful  and  respon- 
sible business  of  a  Christian  minister;  but  when  finally 
and  fully  convinced  of  his  duty,  he  did  not  hesitate.  There 
were  indeed  many  reasons  why  he  should  confer  with  flesh 
and  blood;  but,  with  his  characteristic  firmness,  he  re- 
jected them  all,  and  took  the  pulpit,  I  think,  in  1811.  At 
the  time  of  his  conversion  he  resided  in  Highland  county, 
Ohio.  His  ministerial  career  was  commenced  during  a 
residence  in  Union,  Greene  county,  Ohio,  whither  he  had 
been  called  to  take  charge  of  a  seminary.  At  the  head 
of  this  institution  he  continued  about  six  years,  living  and 


KEV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  428 

preaching  the  religion  of  Christ  in  its  native  simplicity  and 
power. 

"From  Union  he  removed  to  Dayton,  distant  only  about 
thirty  miles,  and  conducted  an  academy  in  this  place  for 
two  years.  It  was  here  our  acquaintance  and  intimacy 
commenced,  which  ended  only  with  his  useful  life.  He 
left  Dayton,  beloved  and  regretted  of  all,  and  accepted  a 
call  to  superintend  a  respectable  seminary  in  Steubenville, 
Ohio.  In  this  place  he  continued  not  quite  two  years.  In 
his  ministerial  exertions  he  was  'instant  in  season  and  oui 
of  season/  and  labored  with  more  than  ordinary  success. 
His  next  remove  was  to  Piqua,  Ohio,  where  he  continued 
as  principal  of  an  academy  for  four  years.  In  all  these 
places  his  pulpit  efforts  were  highly  acceptable ;  his  social 
intercourse  seasoned  with  dignity  and  piety,  and  his  resi- 
dence a  blessing  to  all  about  him.  From  this  place  he 
made  his  last  remove  to  Augusta,  Kentucky.  Here  he 
taught  a  classical  school  for  some  time,  and  was  afterward 
appointed  principal  of  Augusta  College,  in  which  relation 
he  continued  till  the  time  of  his  death.  In  these  severai 
places  his  labors  in  the  pulpit  were  considerable,  and  ex- 
tensively useful.  All  who  knew  him  esteemed  him  as  a 
man  of  talents  and  irreproachable  Christian  character. 
He  was,  indeed,  all  in  all,  one  of  the  most  amiable,  guile- 
less men  I  ever  knew:  never  did  I  know  a  man  more 
perfectly  under  the  influence  of  moral  and  religious  prin- 
ciple. His  uniform  course  was  one  of  high  and  unbend- 
ing rectitude. 

"  One  error,  as  reported  in  the  'Minutes,'  respect- 
ing his  conversion,  I  must  beg  leave  to  correct.  I  do 
it  upon  his  own  authority,  when  living,  and  that  of  his 
brother,  the  Rev.  James  B.  Finley,  superintendent  of  the 
Wyandott  mission.  There  is  something  rather  remarkable 
in  the  manner  in  which  these  worthy  ministers  were  tirst 
wrought  to  reflect  with  more  than  ordinary  concern  upon 


424  ATTTOBtOGRAl>nr    Of 

their  latter  end.  John  and  James  were  amusing  them 
selves  in  the  forest  with  their  guns;  and  as  John  was  sit- 
ting carelessly  upon  his  horse,  James's  gun  accidental!) 
went  off,  and  the  contents  came  very  near  entering  John's 
head.  The  brothers  were  mutually  alarmed,  humbled, 
and  thankful ;  they  were  more  than  ever  struck  with  the 
melancholy  truth,  that  'in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in 
death.'  They  reflected  upon  their  unpreparedness  to  meet 
death,  and  appear  in  judgment.  Each  promised  the  other 
he  would  reform ;  and  the  result  was,  they  were  both  led 
to  seek  religion,  as  the  only  preparation  for  eternity. 
Both  the  brothers  agree  in  stating  that  this  circumstance 
was  the  means,  in  the  hand  of  God,  of  their  awakening 
and  conversion,  as  neither  of  them  was  in  the  habit  of 
attending  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  before  the  inquie- 
tude and  alarm  created  by  this  occasion.  I  have  been 
thus  minute  in  detailing  the  immediate  means  of  his  con- 
version, at  the  request  of  a  surviving  brother,  in  whose 
estimation  the  apparent  incompetency  of  the  means  mag- 
nifies the  grace  of  God,  in  this  singular  dispensation  of 
blended  mercy  and  providence. 

"John  P.  Finley  was  in  the  ministry  about  fifteen  years. 
He  was  ordained  deacon  by  Bishop  Asbury,  on  the  17th 
of  September,  1815.  He  received  ordination  as  elder  at 
the  hands  of  Bishop  Roberts,  July  2,  1 820.  At  the  time 
of  his  death  he  was  a  member  of  the  Kentucky  annual 
conference,  actively  dividing  his  time  and  energies  between 
tlr°,  business  of  collegiate  instruction  and  the  labor  of  the 
pulpit. 

"As  a  man,  the  subject  of  these  recollections  was  en- 
gagingly amiable,  ingenuous,  and  agreeable.  Equally 
removed  from  affectation  and  reserve,  the  circle  in  which 
he  moved  felt  the  presence  of  a  friend,  and  the  influence 
of  a  Christian  and  minister. 

"As  a  teacher,  his  excellence  was  acknowledged  by  all 


EEV.   JAMES    £.   FINLEY.  425 

who  were  competent  to  decide  upon  his  claims;  and 
though  he  gloried  more  in  being  found  a  pupil  in  the 
school  of  Christ,  yet  he  was  no  stranger  to  the  academy 
and  lyceum. 

c'As  a  husband,  there  is  one  living  whose  tears  have 
been  his  eulogy,  and  to  whom,  with  his  orphan  children, 
friendship  inscribes  these  lines. 

"As  &  father,  he  was  worthy  of  his  children;  and  in 
pointing  them  to  another  and  better  world,  he  was  always 
careful  to  lead  the  way  himself. 

"As  a  friend,  he  was  warm,  ardent,  and  confiding,  and 
not  less  generous  than  constant.  His  intimate  friends, 
however,  were  few  and  well  selected. 

"As  a  minister,  in  the  pulpit,  he  was  able,  impressive, 
and  overwhelming.  The  cross  of  his  redemption  was  his 
theme;  and  in  life  and  death  it  became  to  him  the  'em- 
phasis of  every  joy.'  In  all  these  relations  I  knew  him 
well,  and  can,  therefore,  speak  from  the  confidence  of  per- 
sonal knowledge  and  accredited  information. 

"The  last  time  I  saw  him,  I  preached  a  sermon,  at  his 
request,  on  the  'Inspiration  of  the  Scriptures.'  When  I 
had  retired  to  my  room,  he  called  on  me,  in  company 
with  a  friend,  and,  in  his  usual  frank  manner,  embraced 

me,  and  observed,  '  H ,  I  thank  you  for  that  sermon, 

and  I  expect  to  repeat  my  gratitude  in  heaven.'  Little 
did  I  think  at  this  interview  that  I  was  gazing  on  my  friend 
for  the  last  time,  and  that  in  eighteen  months  his  ripened 
virtues  were  to  receive  the  rewards  of  the  heavenly  world ! 
But  so  it  was ;  and  I,  less  fit  to  die,  am  spared  another  and 
another  year. 

"He  died  on  the  8th  of  May,  1825,  in  the  forty-secc/xl 
year  of  his  age,  and  sixteenth  of  his  ministry;  and  a.  the 
same  time  that  this  bereaved  family  wept  upon  his  grave, 
the  sadness  of  the  Church  told  that  she  had  lost  one  of 
her  brightest  ornaments.  Just  before  his  triumphant  spirit 
36 


42G  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

rose  to  sink  and  sigh  no  more,  he  was  asked  how  he  fell» 
and  what  were  his  prospects  upon  entering  the  dark  val- 
ley and  shadow  of  death.  He  replied,  in  language  worthy 
of  immortality,  'Not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt;  I  have 
Christ  within,  the  hope  of  glory.  That  comprehends  all !' 
and  then,  with  the  protomartyr,  he  '  fell  asleep/ 

"  Such  is  a  very  imperfect  sketch  of  the  life,  character, 
and  death  of  John  P.  Finley.  God  grant,  reader,  that 
you  and  I  may  share  the  glory  that  gilded  the  last  hours 
of  his  toil !" 

I  will  close  this  sketch  by  inserting  the  Rev.  Jonathan 
Stamper's  dream.  He  was  intimately  acquainted  with 
my  brother,  and  the  remarkable  dream  which  he  had 
was  in  relation  to  him.  It  was  communicated  to  me  as 
follows : 

"  I  was  much  attached  to  brother  Finley  and  he  to  me. 
We  lived  in  habits  of  the  closest  intimacy  and  ChristiaD 
confidence.  He  was  taken  ill  when  I  was  at  a  distance, 
and  the  news  of  his  sickness  and  death  came  together  to 
me.  I  felt  that  I  had  lost  one  of  my  best  friends,  and 
mourned  for  him  as  a  dear  brother  departed,  and  probably 
that  gave  rise  to  the  dream.  In  my  slumbers  I  thought  1 
went  to  his  house,  where  I  used  often  to  go  with  pleasure 
in  his  lifetime.  He  welcomed  me  at  the  door  with  his 
usual  urbanity.  I  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  he  expressed 
great  joy  to  see  me,  though  I  knew  he  was  dead.  W* 
sat  down  side  and  side  by  the  fire.  I  was  at  once  filled 
with  curiosity  to  learn  something  from  him  respecting  the 
world  of  spirits.     He  looked  at  me  earnestly,  and  said, 

"  'Brother,  you  are  filled  with  curiosity?' 

"I  replied,  'Yes,  my  mind  has  taken  a  very  curious 
turn.' 

"  '  Well,'  said  he,  'ask  me  any  question  you  see  proper, 
and  I  will  satisfy  you  so  far  as  I  can  consistently  with  thf 
laws  of  the  country  where  I  live.' 


KEY.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  427 

"  I  then  proceeded,  and  asked,  '  Brother,  are  you 
happy  V 

*' '  Yes,'  said  he,  '  I  am  happy  as  heaven  can  make  me. 

"  I  then  asked,  'When  you  died  did  you  enter  immedi- 
ately into  heaven?' 

"  'No/  said  he;  'but  I  immediately  started  for  it,  and 
J  was  the  space  of  three  days  arriving  there,  though  I 
flew  with  more  than  the  velocity  of  a  sunbeam.  I  passed 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  this  system,  and  lost  sight  of 
the  most  distant  star  that  twinkles  in  these  skies,  and 
entered  into  thick  and  uninterrupted  darkness.'  Then 
parsing,  he  looked  at  me  most  expressively,  and  said, 
'O,  hell  is  a  solemn  reality!  After  this,'  said  he,  'I  all 
at  once  bmst  into  the  glories  of  heaven.' 

"  Said  1,  '  The  Scriptures  represent  heaven  as  a  glori- 
ous city,  such  a  one  as  was  never  seen  on  earth,  and  by 
other  splendid  and  beautiful  imagery.  Is  this  entirely 
figurative,  or  is  it  a  literal  description  ?' 

"'It  is,'  said  he,  'partly  figurative  and  partly  real. 
Heaven  is  a  local  residence,  gloriously  fitted  up  for  the 
abode  of  saints  and  angels,  where  the  glory  of  God  is  re- 
vealed to  an  extent  that  is  not  known  in  any  other  pari 
of  his  dominion,  where  the  glorified  humanity  of  Jesus  is 
ever  seen  and  admired  by  the  whole  company  of  heaven. 
There  is  nothing  material  there,  but  all  spiritual,  immate- 
rial, and  imperishable.  All  the  beautiful  imagery  of  the 
Scriptures  are  there  seen,  though  of  a  spiritual  character, 
such  as  the  trees  ever  green,  the  golden  streSts,  etc' 

"I  then  inquired  if  the  saints  in  heaven  knew  each 
«ither. 

"  '  More  perfectly,'  said  he,  '  than  they  did  here.  1 
knew  at  sight  all  the  patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles.' 

"  I  then  desired  to  know  if  the  saints  in  heaven  were 
Hcquainted  with  the  affairs  of  earth. 

"'Only,'  said  he,  'as  they  are  permitted  to  visit  the 


428  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

earth,  as  I  am  at  this  time.  This  they  often  do,  aiid  are 
sometimes  sent  as  ministering  angels.' 

"After  this  he  said,  'I  desire  to  know  how  you  are 
getting  on  in  the  work  of  God.' 

"  I  replied,  '  About  as  we  were  when  you  used  to  bo 
with  us.' 

"  He  then  asked,  *  Do  the  Methodists  pay  their  preach- 
ers no  better  than  formerly  ?' 

"  I  said,  '  No.' 

"  •  0/  said  he,  'what  a  pity — what  a  pity !  The  itiner- 
ant plan  is  the  plan  of  God.  He  designs  it  to  take  the 
world,  and  nothing  will  prevent  it  but  a  want  of  liberality 
in  our  people.  But,'  said  he,  "  you  must  never  locate. 
God  has  called  you  to  this  work.  He  will  support 
you.  You  will  live  to  be  a  very  old  man,  and  may  be 
very  useful.'  He  then  repeated,  with  a  very  heavy  em- 
phasis, 'You  must  never  locate.  If  I  had  my  life  to  live 
again,  I  would  travel  if  I  begged  my  bread  from  door  to 
door.  You  know  I  often  told  you  I  believed  it  was  my 
duty  to  travel,  and  had  I  obeyed  I  should  have  shone 
much  brighter  in  heaven  than  I  now  do.'  He  then  added, 
with  a  most  affectionate  ton«*  and  look,  '  0,  brother,  don't 
locate  ;  God  will  support  you.'  He  then  reached  up  to 
the  chimney-piece,  and  took  down  a  considerable  roll  of 
bank-notes  of  the  most  singular  and  beautiful  appearance 
I  had  ever  seen,  and,  handing  them  to  me,  he  said,  'Here, 
these  are  for  you.' 

"  I  said,  '  Brother,  I  would  rather  you  would  give  that 
money  to  your  wife.  You  know  your  family  are  depend- 
ent.' 

"  He  answered,  '  No ;  it  is  for  you.  There  is  a  bank  in 
heaven  for  the  support  of  itinerant  preachers,  and  this  is 
for  you.'  I  then  took  it.  He  then  said,  '  It  is  almost 
time  for  me  to  go ;  but  we  must  worship  together  before 
we  part.'     He  sang  loud  and  animated,  and  while  I  was 


RFV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY  429 

praying  he  shouted  aloud,  as  he  used  often  to  do  when  we 
were  together  at  meeting.  My  soul  became  filled.  I 
never  was  more  happy;  and  even  after  I  awoke  my  very 
heart  sung  praises  to  God.  He  then  bade  me  an  affec- 
tionate adieu,  we  parted,  and  I  awoke." 


430  ATTTOBIOGRAriir    OF 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

SKETCH     OF     THE     REV.     WILLIAM     B.     CHRISTIE. 

T  have  already  alluded  to  this  beloved  brother,  and 
piopose  furnishing  my  readers  with  a  short  sketch  of  his 
useful  life. 

Brother  Christie  was  born  in  Williamsburg,  Clermont 
county,  Ohio,  on  the  2d  of  September,  1803.  In  early 
life  he  embraced  religion  and  joined  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church.  In  the  year  1825  he  was  admitted  into 
the  traveling  connection  and  appointed  to  Union  circuit. 
He  was  called  to  fill  some  of  the  most  important  appoint- 
ments in  the  gift  of  the  Church.  In  the  several  import- 
ant fields  of  labor  he  sustained  himself  well  as  a  minister, 
and  by  his  zeal  and  fidelity  he  proved,  under  God,  a 
great  blessjng  to  the  Church.  "  That  his  labors  were 
those  of  an  accredited  embassador  of  Christ  is  attested 
by  thousands  who  were  blessed  with  his  ministrations. 
Numerous  witnesses  of  the  power  of  Christ  to  save  were 
raised  up  through  his  instrumentality.  That  he  pos- 
sessed the  affection  and  confidence  of  his  brethren  and 
companions  in  toil  is  evident  from  the  fact  that,  by  their 
suffrages,  he  was  thrice  honored  with  a  seat  in  the  Gen- 
eral conference." 

The  personal  appearance  of  brother  Christie  was  pre 
possessing  in  an  eminent  degree.  He  was  somewhat 
above  the  medium  hight.  His  hair  was  black  as  a  raven, 
his  eyes  dark  and  piercingly  brilliant,  and,  when  lighted 
up  fully  with  the  inspiration  of  his  theme,  they  shot  un- 
earthly fires.     About  his  countenance  there  was  a  bland 


RE?.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  431 

and  sometimes  almost  seraphic  sweetness,  especially  when, 
with  soft  and  measured  cadences,  he  would  labor  to  win 
his  rapt  and  listening  audiences  to  the  cross,  or  bear  them 
away  on  imagination's  wing  to  heaven.  His  equal  in  the 
pulpit  for  fervid  oratory  we  never  saw  before;  his  like  in 
rapid,  impassioned  eloquence  we  never  expect  to  look 
upon  again.  His  ambition — and  who  that  excels  has  it 
not? — was  of  that  towering  kind  which  sought  to  rise 
above  all  others,  but  never  stooped  in  envious  flight  to 
pluck  another's  honors. 

I  will  refer  to  the  admirably-written  memoir  contained 
in  the  Minutes  of  the  Ohio  conference  for  1843: 

"As  a  man,  brother  Christie  was  ingenuous,  guileless, 
magnanimous,  and  ardent  in  affection.  Dignified  in  de- 
portment and  courteous  in  his  manners,  he  won  the  affec- 
tions of  all  with  whom  he  had  intercourse.  His  mental 
endowments  were  of  a  high  order,  and  having  in  youth 
enjoyed  the  advantages  of  a  college  life  at  Augusta,  under 
the  presidency  of  the  Rev.  John  P.  Finley,  he  received 
that  training  and  acquired  those  elements  and  principles 
which  qualified  him  for  the  attainment  of  those  stores  of 
knowledge  which,  in  after  life,  were  so  richly  developed 
during  his  ministerial  career.  Hence,  as  a  divine,  it  has 
been  justly  remarked,  that  he  had  few  equals,  if  any 
superiors.  Profoundly  versed  in  the  science  of  theology 
and  ecclesiastical  polity,  in  the  pulpit  and  on  the  confer- 
ence floor,  he  handled  his  subjects  with  a  power  and  skill 
that  rarely  failed  of  success.  But  the  pulpit,  pre-emi- 
nently, was  the  theater  of  his  greatness,  and  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  the  glory  of  his  theme.  Calm  and  col- 
lected in  his  introduction,  cautious  in  the  statement  of  his 
positions,  cogent  in  his  reasonings,  apposite  in  his  illustra- 
tions, and  appropriate  in  his  Scriptural  quotations,  he  car 
ried  conviction  to  the  understandings  of  his  audience,  and 
iheii,  rising  wkh   the  inspiration  of  his  subject,  with  the 


4:32  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

fervor  and  pathos  of  his  appeals,  under  the  glowings  ol 
the  Spirit  of  God,  he  forced  the  citadel  of  the  hearts  of 
his  hearers,  and  made  them  feel  the  power  of  the  Gospel 
of  Christ.  Through  him  the  violated  law  of  God  an- 
nounced its  threatened  penalty,  the  claims  of  Divine  jus- 
tice were  vindicated,  till  the  sinner,  self-condemned,  was 
carried  to  the  cross  of  Jesus,  and  offered  and  pressed  foi 
his  acceptance,  by  faith  in  the  blood  of  atonement,  a 
present,  free,  and  full  salvation.  And,  doubtless,  many 
through  his  instrumentality  were  saved,  and  will  shine  as 
stars  in  his  crown  of  rejoicing  forever  and  ever.  But  this 
bright  luminary  in  the  moral  heavens  was  destined  to  be 
quenched  ere  it  had  traveled  the  whole  length  of  the 
ordinary  path  of  human  life. 

"  In  the  early  part  of  brother  Christie's  ministerial  life 
his  health  failed  him,  owing  to  his  abundant  labors  and 
his  untiring  assiduity  in  the  pursuit  of  useful  knowledge. 
Hence,  for  many  years  he  suffered  much  affliction  and 
almost  continual  pain,  but  did  not  intermit  his  labors  till 
he  was  absolutely  compelled  to  desist  from  his  work  and 
repair  to  the  bosom  of  his  friends  to  close  his  earthly 
career.  For  this  purpose  he  left  his  station  at  Urbana, 
and  went  to  the  city  of  Cincinnati.  But  when  he  reached 
Dr.  Wright's,  in  Cincinnati,  on  Tuesday  evening,  he  was 
much  prostrated,  took  his  bed,  and  declined  more  rapidly 
than  before.  The  next  morning  after  he  arrived,  two  min- 
isterial brethren  called  to  see  him.  His  face  was  flushed 
with  fever,  and  his  system  wasted  almost  to  a  shadow. 
He  was  much  affected  at  the  interview,  and  said  his 
nerves  were  shattered,  but  his  confidence  in  God  was  un- 
shaken. He  knew  in  whom  he  had  believed.  He  had  not 
preached  an  unknown  or  unfelt  Savior,  and  the  Gospel 
which  he  had  long  preached  to  others  was  then  his  conso- 
lation. The  calls  of  his  numerous  friends  so  taxed  his 
sympathy   and  his   strength  that  his  physicians  found  i\ 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FIN  LEY.  433 

requisite  to  lay  some  restriction  on  them,  or  suffer  him 
to  be  much  hastened  in  his  departure ;  and,  with  all  the 
care  that  could  be  taken  by  physicians  and  friends,  he  did 
not  last  long. 

"Among  the  numerous  incidents  indicating  the  state 
of  his  mind  during  the  last  hours  of  his  earthly  existence, 
only  a  few  will  be  recited. 

"Saturday  morning,  a  little  after  midnight,  he  re- 
quested a  brother,  who  was  sitting  near  him,  to  call  Dr. 
Wright,  who  came  in  and  found  him  rapidly  sinking.  He 
asked  brother  C.  if  he  felt  worse.  His  reply  was,  that  he 
had  great  difficulty  of  breathing.  After  some  means  of 
temporary  relief  had  been  administered,  he  asked  the 
Doctor,  'What  does  this  mean?'  In  reply,  the  Doctor 
inquired  if  he  would  like  to  see  some  of  his  friends. 
Brother  C.  then  said,  'Why  do  you  ask  the  question? 
Do  you  think  I  am  pretty  near  home?'  On  being  in- 
formed that  he  was  undoubtedly  worse,  he  looked  round 
upon  his  wife  and  friends,  calm  and  collected,  and  said, 
'  I  am  not  alarmed.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.'  Extending 
and  looking  at  his  hands,  he  remarked,  '  Jesus,  with  his 
bleeding  hands,  will  not  thrust  me  away.'  Next,  he  took 
his  two  little  sons,  embraced,  and  commended  them  to 
God.  Soon  after  this,  brother  Sehon,  having:  been  sent 
for,  entered  his  room,  to  whom  he  extended  his  hand, 
and,  with  a  countenance  bright  with  hope,  said,  '  Brother 
Sehon,  I  am  almost  home.'  After  exchanging  a  few 
words,  he  requested  brother  S.  to  pray,  and  during  the 
prayer  he  appeared  to  be  perfectly  happy.  This  over,  he 
beckoned  brother  S.  to  his  bed,  and  by  him  sent  the  fol- 
lowing message :  '  Tell  my  brethren  at  the  conference,  if 
they  think  my  name  worthy  of  being  mentioned,  that  ] 
have  not  preached  an  unknown  and  an  unfelt  Christ. 
Tell  them,  that  though  unworthy  and  unfaithful,  that 
Gospel  which  I  have  preached  to  others  now  sustains  me. 
28 


434  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Tell  the  preachers  to  preach  Christ  and  him  crucified. 
Tell  them  my  only  hope,  my  only  foundation,  is  in  the 
blood  of  sprinkling.  Precious  blood!  0,  the  fullness, 
the  sweetness,  the  richness  of  that  fountain!'  After 
praising  God  for  some  time,  he  turned  his  eyes  on  his 
weeping  companion,  and  made  some  reference  to  his  tem- 
poralities, but  instantly  observed,  they  were  small  mat- 
ters, little  things,  assuring  her  that  God  would  provide  for 
her  and' his  little  children.  About  two  o'clock  Bishop 
Morris  arrivea,  and  found  him  bolstered  up  in  his  bed, 
covered  with  the  sweat  of  death,  and  much  exhausted  by 
the  efforts  he  had  made  to  speak,  as  above  described. 
He,  however,  reached  out  his  hand,  and  said  distinctly, 
*  I  am  almost  home.  I  feel  that  God  is  good  to  me,  and 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  my  salvation.'  No  question  was 
asked  him,  and,  being  exhausted,  he  desisted  from  speak- 
ing for  a  while,  and  then,  looking  at  his  distressed  wife, 
we  understood  him  to  say,  'Jesus  is  precious.'  When 
unable  to  articulate,  he  often  lifted  his  cold  hand  in  token 
of  victory ;  and  again,  as  though  anxious  to  make  us  un- 
derstand his  meaning,  he  raised  his  hand  high  above  his 
head,  and  waved  it  in  triumph.  After  some  time,  he 
raised  both  hands  at  once,  and  extended  them  before  him 
as  if  just  rising  on  'the  wings  of  love  and  arms  of  faith ; 
and  then,  in  an  animating  manner,  brought  his  hands 
together,  triumphing  over  death,  his  last  enemy.  At  that 
time  we  supposed  he  would  speak  no  more ;  for  when  hia 
companion  desired  to  hear  his  voice  once  more  ~>n  earth, 
he  could  only  look  at  her  and  point  his  finger  to  heaven. 
However,  not  long  before  his  exit  he  raised  his  hands 
high,  and  brother  S.  asked  him  if  he  wanted  any  thing. 
He  shook  his  head.  Brother  S.  then  asked  hinrif  it  was 
power  and  glory.  His  countenance  brightened  up,  while 
he  nodded  his  head  affirmatively,  and  his  strength  return- 
ing to  him,  he  shouted  aloud,  clapping  his  hands  and  giv- 


KKV.    JAMES    T5.    FINLEY.  435 

ing  glory  to  God.  The  same  peculiarity  of  manner,  form 
of  expression,  and  even  gesture,  which  marked  his  pulpit 
and  altar  performances,  were  strikingly  exhibited  in  his 
closing  scene.  To  the  last  he  seemed  to  be  conscious  and 
triumphant.  About  seven  o'clock,  Saturday  morning, 
March  26,  1842,  without  a  sigh  or  groan,  his  deathless 
spirit  passed  in  peace  and  triumph  from  earth,  to  appeal 
before  the  presence  of  God  with  exceeding  joy.  The 
overwhelming  crowd  of  all  classes  of  people  that  thronged 
to  his  funeral  at  Wesley  Chapel,  and  attended  his  remains 
to  their  last  resting-place  on  earth,  afforded  abundant  ev' 
aence  of  thp  estimate  they  placed  upon  his  character. 


436  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

INDIAN     BIOGRAPHY. 

HOXONCUE. 

This  renowned  chief  of  the  Wyandott  nation  was  aboul 
medium  in  stature,  and  remarkably  symmetrical  in  form. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  active  men  I  ever  knew,  quick  in 
his  motions  as  thought,  and  fleet  as  the  roe  in  the  chase, 

As  a  speaker,  he  possessed  a  native  eloquence  which  was 
truly  wonderful.  Few  could  stand  before  the  overwhelm- 
ing torrent  of  his  eloquence.  He  was  a  son  of  Thunder. 
When  inspired  with  his  theme,  he  could  move  a  large 
assembly  with  as  much  ease,  and  rouse  them  to  as  high  a 
state  of  excitement,  as  any  speaker  I  ever  heard. 

There  is  a  peculiarity  in  Indian  eloquence  which  it  is 
difficult  to  describe.  To  form  a  correct  idea  of  its  char- 
acter, you  must  be  in  the  hearing  and  sight  of  the  son  of 
the  forest;  the  tones  of  his  voice  and  the  flash  of  his  eye 
must  fall  upon  you,  and  you  must  see  the  significant 
movements  of  his  body.  As  an  orator,  Mononcue  was 
not  surpassed  by  any  chieftain. 

I  will  give  a  specimen  or  two  of  the  eloquence  of  this 
gifted  son  of  nature.  Imagine  yourself,  gentle  reader,  in 
the  depths  of  the  forest,  surrounded  by  hundreds  of  chiefs 
and  warriors,  all  sunk  in  the  degradation  and  darkness  of 
Paganism.  They  have  been  visited  by  the  missionary, 
and  several  converted  Indian  chiefs.  One  afier  another 
the  chiefs  rise  and  address  the  assembly,  but  with  no 
effect.  The  dark  scowl  of  infidelity  settles  on  their 
brows,  and  the  frequent  mutterings  of  the  excited  auditors 


REV.     JAMES    B.     FINLEY.  48V 

indicate  that  their  speeches  are  not  acceptable,  and  their 
doctrines  not  believed. 

At  length  Mononcue  rises  amidst  confusion  and  disturb* 
ance,  and  ordering  silence  with  a  commanding  voice,  he 
addresses  them  as  follows: 

"When  you  meet  to  worship  God,  and  to  hear  from  his 
word,  shut  up  your  mouths,  and  open  your  ears  to  hear 
what  is  said.  You  have  been  here  several  days  and 
nights  worshiping  your  Indian  god,  who  has  no  existence, 
only  in  your  dark  and  beclouded  minds.  You  have  been 
burning  your  dogs  and  venison  for  him  to  smell.  What 
kind  of  a  God  or  Spirit  is  he,  that  can  be  delighted  with 
the  smell  of  a  burnt  dog  ?  Do  you  suppose  the  great  God 
that  spread  out  the  heavens,  that  hung  up  the  sun  and 
moon,  and  all  the  stars,  to  make  light,  and  spread  out  this 
vast  world  of  land  and  water,  and  filled  it  with  men  and 
beasts,  and  every  thing  that  swims  or  flies,  is  pleased  with 
the  smell  of  your  burnt  dogs  ?  I  tell  you  to-day,  that  his 
great  eye  is  on  your  hearts,  and  not  on  your  fires,  to  see 
and  smell  what  you  are  burning.  Has  your  worshiping 
here  these  few  days  made  you  any  better?  Do  you  feel 
that  you  have  gotten  the  victory  over  one  evil?  No! 
You  have  not  taken  the  first  step  to  do  better,  which  is  to 
keep  this  day  holy.  This  day  was  appointed  by  God 
himself  a  day  of  rest  for  all  men,  and  a  day  on  which 
men  are  to  worship  him  with  pure  hearts,  and  to  come 
before  him,  that  he  may  examine  their  hearts,  and  cast 
out  all  their  evil.  This  day  is  appointed  for  his  ministers 
to  preach  to  us  Jesus,  and  to  teach  our  dark  and  cloudy 
minds,  and  to  bring  them  to  light."  He  here  spoke  of 
the  Savior,  and  his  dying  to  redeem  the  world;  that  now 
life  and  salvation  are  freely  offered  to  all  that  will  forsake 
sin  and  turn  to  God.  He  adverted  to  the  judgment  day, 
and  the  awful  consequences  of  being  found  in  sin,  and 
strangers  to  God.     On  this  subject  he  was  tremendously 


£38  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

awful.  He  burst  into  tears:  he  caught  the  handkerchiel 
from  his  head,  and  wiped  them  from  his  eyes.  Many  in 
the  house  sat  as  if  they  were  petrified,  while  others  wept 
in  silence.  Many  of  the  females  drew  their  blankets  over 
their  faces  and  wept.  "Awful,  awful  day  to  the  wicked !" 
said  this  thundering  minister.  "  Your  faces  will  look  much 
blacker  with  your  shame  and  guilt,  than  they  do  now  with 
your  paint."  I  have  no  doubt  but  God  was  with  Monon- 
cue  on  this  occasion,  and  that  many  were  convicted  of  sin 
and  a  judgment  to  come. 

On  the  first  of  January,  at  our  mission  in  Upper  San- 
dusky, while  I  had  charge  of  the  same,  I  was  called  to 
bury  one  of  our  little  flock,  an  aged  woman,  the  mother  of 
Jaco,  and  aunt  to  Mononcue.     She  lived  at  the  Big  Spring 
reservation,  fifteen  miles  from  the  mission  house.     On  the 
Sabbath  before  her  death,  I  conversed  with  her  about  her 
future  hopes.     She  rejoiced,  and  praised  God  that  he  had 
ever  sent  his  ministers  to  preach  Jesus  to  her  and  her  peo- 
ple.    "I  have  been  trying,"  said  she,   "to  serve  God  for 
years;  but  it  was  all  in  the  dark,  till  the  ministers  brought 
the  light  to  my  mind,  and  then  I  prayed,  and  found  my 
God  precious  to  my  poor  soul.     Now  I  am  going  soon  to 
see  him  in  his  house  above;  and  I  want  all  my  children, 
and  grandchildren,  and  friends,  to  meet  me  in  that  good 
world."     She  died  a  few  days  after,  in  great  peace.     1  was 
sent  for,  to  go  and  bury  her.     Brother  Riley  and  myself 
rode   there  in  the  night,  and  early  in  the  morning  com- 
menced making   the  coffin.     It  was  late  before  we  could 
finish  it,   and,  consequently,  late  before  the  funeral   was 
over.     But  I  think  I  shall  never  forget  the  scene.     It  was 
between  sundown  and  dark  when  we  left  with  the  corpse 
The  lowering  clouds  hung  heavily  over  us,  and  the  virgin 
snow  was  falling.     We  entered  a  deep  and  lonely  wood. 
four  men  carrying  the  bier,  and  the  rest  all  following  in 
Indian  file      When  we  came  tc   the  burying-ground,  the 


REV.    JAMES     B.     FINLEY.  439 

Indians  stood  wrapped  up  in  their  blankets,  leaning  against 
the  forest  trees,  in  breathless  silence;  and  all  bore  the  as- 
pect of  death.  Not  one  word  was  said  while  the  grave 
was  filling  up ;  but  from  the  daughter,  and  some  of  the 
grandchildren,  now  and  then  a  broken  sigh  escaped.  At 
last  Mononcue  broke  out  in  the  following  strains :  "  Fare- 
well, my  old  and  precious  aunt!  You  have  suffered  much 
in  this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow.  You  set  us  all  a  good 
example,  and  we  have  often  heard  you  speak  of  Jesus  in 
the  sweetest  strains,  while  the  falling  tears  have  witnessed 
the  sincerity  of  your  heart.  Farewell,  my  aunt!  We 
shall  no  more  hear  your  tender  voice,  that  used  to  lull  all 
our  sorrows,  and  drive  our  fears  from  us.  Farewell,  my 
aunt!  That  hand  that  fed  us  will  feed  us  no  more.  Fare- 
well to  your  sorrows :  all  is  over.  There  your  body  must 
lie  till  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God  shall  call  you  up.  We 
weep  not  with  sorrow,  but  with  joy,  that  your  soul  is  in 
heaven."  Then  he  said,  "Who  of  you  all  will  meet  her  in 
heaven?"  This  was  a  feeling  and  happy  time,  and  wc 
parted,  I  think,  fully  determined  to  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous.  We  rode  home  that  night,  fifteen  miles,  and 
felt  greatly  comforted  in  talking  of  the  goodness  of  God 
and  the  power  of  his  grace.  "Blessed  are  the  dead  that 
die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth." 

Mononcue  was  of  great  service  to  the  mission  as  a  local 
preacher,  and  was  always  prompt  in  the  discharge  of  every 
duty.     He  was 

"  Bold  to  take  up,  firm  to  sustain 
The  consecrated  cross." 

Ready  for  every  good  word  and  work,  he  engaged  with 
the  utmost  cheerfulness  in  every  thing  his  brethren  desired 
him  to  do,  that  would  advance  the  cause  of  his  Master 
[  was  mest  deeply  attached  to  him,  and  lived  on  terms  ot 
the  most  warm  and  confiding  friendship  during  his  life. 
But  Mononcue,  my  faithful  Indian  friend  and  brother,  it 


440  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    O* 

gone.  "He  has  fought  the  good  fight,  he  has  finished  nis 
course,  he  has  kept  the  faith,"  and  now  he  dwells  with 
the  Savior  above. 

BETWEEN-THE-LOGS. 

The  distinguished  chief  whose  likeness  the  reader  will 
find  accompanying  this  biography,  was  born  near  Lower 
Sandusky,  about  the  year  1780.  His  father  was  a  Seneca, 
and  his  mother  a  Wyandott,  belonging  to  the  Bear  tribe. 
When  he  was  about  eight  or  nine  years  old,  his  father  and 
mother  parted — a  thing  very  common  among  the  heathen 
Indians.  After  this,  he  lived  with  his  father  till  the  old 
man's  death,  by  which  time  he  had  nearly  arrived  at  man- 
hood. After  the  death  of  his  father,  he  lived  with  his 
mother,  among  the  Wyandotts.  Of  the  particulars  of  his 
life,  previous  to  this  time,  there  is  but  little  known.  Not 
long  after  his  return  to  his  mother,  he  joined  Indian  war- 
riors, and  with  them  suffered  a  defeat  by  the  army  under 
Gen.  Wayne,  in  the  decisive  battle  at  the  Rapids  of  Mau- 
mee.  He  then  lived  at  Lower  Sandusky.  His  good 
sense,  persevering  and  enterprising  disposition,  with  his 
prompt  obedience  to  the  commands  of  the  chiefs,  and 
faithful  discharge  of  whatever  duty  was  assigned  him,  be- 
gan to  call  him  into  public  notice  in  the  nation,  and  laid 
the  foundation  for  his  being  promoted  to  the  office  of  a 
chief;  and  because  of  his  retentive  memory,  and  ability  in 
discussion,  he  was  constituted  chief-speaker  of  the  nation. 
He  soon  became  the  intimate  friend  and  counselor  of  the 
head  chief.  When  he  was  about  twenty-five  years  old,  he 
was  sent  to  fathom  the  doctrines  and  pretensions  of  a  cel- 
ebrated Seneca  Prophet,  whose  fallacy  he  soon  detected. 
About  two  years  afterward  he  was  sent  on  a  like  errand 
lo  a  noted  Shawnee  Prophet — Tecumseh's  brother — with 
whom  he  staid  nearly  a  year,  and  then  returned,  convinced, 
and  convincing  others,  that  the  Prophet's  pretensions  were 
all  delusive,  and  destitute  of  truth. 


KEV.   JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  441 

Shortly  after  his  return  from  this  Prophet,  the  late  war 
commenced.  On  the  part  of  the  Wyandotts,  he  and  the 
head  chief  attended  a  great  Indian  council  of  the  northern 
nations,  at  Brownstown,  in  which  he  firmly  rejected  all 
overtures  to  join  in  the  war  against  the  Americans, 
although  surrounded  by  warriors  attached  to  the  opposite 
interest.  They  left  the  council,  and)  on  their  return  to 
Sandusky,  immediately  joined  the  American  cause.  When 
Gen.  Harrison  invaded  Canada,  Between-the-loafs,  in  com- 
pany  with  a  party  of  Wyandott  chiefs  and  warriors,  at- 
tended him.  But  the  principal  object  of  the  chief,  at  this 
time,  was  to  detach  that  part  of  the  Wyandotts  from  the 
British  interest,  who,  by  the  surrounding  Indians,  had,  in 
a  measure,  been  forced  to  join  the  English.  This  was 
effected. 

After  the  war,  he  became  permanently  settled  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Upper  Sandusky.  He  now  sometimes 
indulged  in  intemperance  to  excess,  on  which  occasions 
unbridled  passion  got  the  better  of  his  natural  good  sense. 
In  one  of  these  drunken  fits  he  killed  his  wife.  As  well 
as  I  now  recollect,  Between-the-logs  was  excited  to  this 
deed  by  a  wretch  who  owed  her  some  ill-will,  and  took 
the  opportunity  of  his  drunkenness,  and  insisted  that  she 
was  a  bad  woman,  a  witch,  etc.,  and  that  he  ought  to  kill 
her.  For  some  time  he  maintained  that  she  was  a  good 
woman,  and  refused;  but  was,  at  last,  overcome,  and 
stabbed  her.  When  he  became  sober,  the  horror  of  this 
deed  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  his  mind,  that  from 
that  day  forth  he  measurably  abandoned  all  use  of  ardent 
spirits.  Being  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  preparation  for  another  world,  and  having 
a  strong  regard  for  his  countrymen,  he  frequently  be« 
sought  them  to  forsake  drunkenness,  and  pursue  a  right- 
eous life. 

In    1817  a  new  field   opened   for  the   exercise  of  hia 


442  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

wisdom  and  courage.     The  United  States  having  made 
arrangements  to  extinguish  the  Indian  title  to  the  lands 
claimed  by  them  in  Ohio,  commissioners  were  sent  to  treai 
with   them.     The  Wyandotts  refused  to  sell  their  land; 
but  the  Chippewas,  Potawatomies,  and  Ottowas,  without 
any  right,  laid  claim  to  a  great  part  of  their  land.     Ga- 
briel  Godfroy  and  Whitmore   Knaggs,  Indian  agents  for 
these  nations,  proposed  in  open  council,  in  behalf  of  the 
Chippewas,  etc.,   to  sell  said  land.     The   commissioners 
then  declared,  that  if  the  Wyandotts  would  not  sell  their 
lands,  they  would  buy  them  of  the  others.     Between-the- 
logs  firmly  opposed  all  these  measures ;  but  however  just 
his  cause,  or  manly  his  arguments,  they  were  lost  upon 
men  determined  on  their  course.     The  Wyandotts,  finding 
themselves  so  circumstanced,  and  not  being  able  to  help 
themselves,  were  thus  forced  to  sell  on  the  terms  proposed 
by  the  commissioners.     They  did  the  best  they  could,  and 
signed  the  treaty ;  but  only  from  a  strong  hope  that,  by 
representing  to  the  President  and  the  government  the  true 
state  of  things,  before  the  treaty  was  ratified,  they  should 
obtain  some  redress  from  government.     In  resorting  to 
this  course,  Between-the-logs  acted  a  principal  part.     Ac- 
cordingly he,  with  the  Wyandott  chiefs,  and  a  delegation 
from  the  Delawares  and  Senecas,  immediately  proceeded 
to  Washington,  without  consulting  the  Indian  agents,  or 
any  other  officer  of  government.     When  they  were  intro- 
duced to  the  Secretary  of  War,  he  remarked  to  them  that 
he  was  surprised   that  he  had  received  no  information  of 
their  roming*  by  any  of   the  agents.     Between-the-logs 
answered  with  the  spirit  of  a  free  man,  "  We  got  up,  and 
came  of  ourselves.     We  believed  the  great  road  was  free  for 
us"     He  so  pleaded  their  cause   before  the   President, 
Secretary  of  War,  and  Congress,  that  they  obtained  an 
enlargement  of  their  reservations,  and   an  increase  of  an- 
nuities 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  443 

About  a  year  afterward  the  Gospel  was  introduced 
among  the  Wyandotts,  by  a  colored  man,  named  John 
Stewart.  Between-the-logs  was  decidedly  in  its  favor,  and 
maintained  its  cause  in  the  national  council ;  and  when, 
some  time  afterward,  I  formed  a  Church  among  them,  he 
was  the  first  man  who  joined  society,  the  first  who  turned 
his  back  on  their  old,  heathen  traditions. 

After  he  embraced  religion,  and  his  understanding  be- 
came enlightened,  he  earnestly  pressed  upon  his  people 
the  necessity  of  faith  in  Christ,  and  a  life  of  righteous- 
ness. Soon  after  this,  he  was  regularly  appointed  an  ex- 
horter  in  the  Church,  in  which  station  he  remained  till  his 
death,  a  devoted  friend  and  advocate  of  the  cause  of  God. 
He  also  watched  with  unremitting  diligence  over  the  tem- 
poral interests  of  the  nation ;  enduring  the  fatigues  of 
business,  and  of  the  longest  journeys,  for  the  welfare  of 
his  people,  without  complaint.  He  was  uniformly  an 
attendant  upon  the  Ohio  annual  conference,  at  which  he 
made  some  of  the  most  rational  and  eloquent  speeches 
ever  delivered  by  an  Indian  before  that  body.  He  felt, 
and  always  manifested  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
the  mission  and  school. 

The  following  address  was  delivered  by  Between-the- 
logs,  at  the  anniversary  of  the  Missionary  Society,  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  in  the  spring  of  1826.  After  giving  a 
history  of  the  introduction  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion 
into  his  nation,  and  the  influence  it  had  on  his  people,  he 
says:  "It  is  true,  we  went  to  Church  on  the  Sabbath  day, 
and  then  the  minister  preached;  but  we  did  not  under- 
stand one  word  he  said.  We  saw  he  kneeled  down,  and 
stood  up,  and  went  through  motions  with  his  great  dress 
on;  and  when  Church  was  out  we  all  went  to  a  place 
where  they  sold  rum  and  whisky,  got  drunk,  and  went 
home  drunk.  He  would  tell  us  we  must  not  get  drunk; 
but  he  would  drink  himself,   and  frolic  and  dance  on  the 


444  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Sabbath.  We  counted  our  beads,  and  kept  our  crosses 
about  our  necks,  or  under  our  pillows,  and  would  some- 
times pray  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  But  we  were  all  as  we 
were  before.  It  made  no  change  on  us,  and  I  began  to 
think  it  was  not  as  good  as  the  religion  of  our  fathers  ; 
for  they  taught  us  to  be  good  men  and  women,  to  worship 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  to  abstain  from  all  evil.  Soon  after, 
the  Seneca  Prophet  came  to  our  nation,  and  he  told  us 
that  he  had  found  the  right  way ;  that  he  had  a  revelation 
and  had  seen  and  talked  with  an  angel,  and  was  directed 
to  teach  all  the  Indians ;  that  they  must  quit  drinking,  and 
must  take  up  their  old  Indian  religion,  and  offer  their  con- 
stant sacrifices,  as  their  fathers  had  done,  which  had  been 
neglected  too  much;  and,  on  account  of  this,  the  Great 
Spirit  had  forsaken  them.  But  if  they  would  come  back 
and  follow  him,  that  he  would  yet  drive  the  white  man 
back  to  his  native  home.  We  all  followed  him  till  we  saw 
he  went  crooked,  and  did  not  do  himself  what  he  taught 
us  to  do.  Then  we  followed  him  no  more,  but  returned 
to  our  old  course.  Some  time  afterward  came  the  Shaw- 
nee Prophet,  the  brother  of  Tecumseh,  and  he  told  us 
that  a  great  many  years  ago  there  lived  a  prophet  that  had 
foretold  the  present  state  of  the  Indians,  that  they  would 
be  scattered  and  driven  from  their  homes ;  but  that  the 
Great  Spirit  had  said  that  he  would  make  them  stand  on 
their  feet  again,  and  would  drive  the  white  man  back  over 
the  waters,  and  give  them  their  own  country ;  that  he  had 
seen  an  angel,  and  he  told  him  that  all  the  Indians  must 
quit  drinking,  and  all  turn  to  their  old  ways  that  their 
grandfathers  had  followed,  and  unite  and  aid  to  drive  the 
whites  from  our  country.  Many  believed  and  followed 
him.  But  I  had  got  tired,  and  thought  it  was  the  best  for 
me  to  keep  on  in  the  old  way,  and  so  we  continued.  Then 
the  war  came  on,  and  we  all  went  to  drinking  and  fighting. 
When  the  war  was  over,  we  were  a  nation  of  drunkards, 


REV      JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  445 

and  so  wicked  that  the  chiefs  thought  we  must  try  and 
get  up  our  old  religion  of  feasting  and  dancing.  We  did 
our  best  to  get  our  people  to  quit  drinking.  But  while 
we  were  trying  to  reform,  God  sent  a  colored  man  named 
Stewart  to  us  with  the  good  Book.  He  began  to  talk,  and 
sing,  and  pray;  but  we  thought  it  was  all  nothing,  and 
many  made  fun  of  him  because  he  was  a  black  man. 
The  white  traders  told  us  we  ought  to  drive  him  away ; 
for  the  white  people  would  not  let  a  black  man  preach  for 
them.  We,  however,  watched  his  walk,  and  found  that 
he  walked  straight,  and  did  as  he  said.  At  last  the  word 
took  hold,  and  many  began  to  listen,  and  believed  it  was 
right,  and  soon  we  began  to  pray,  and  we  found  that  it 
was  of  God.  Then  others  came,  and  they  told  us  the 
same  things.  The  work  broke  out,  and  God  has  done 
great  things  for  us.  I  was  among  the  first  that  took  hold, 
and  I  found  it  was  the  religion  of  the  heart,  and  from 
God.  It  made  my  soul  happy,  and  does  yet.  The  school 
is  doing  well.  Our  children  are  learning  to  read  the  good 
Book,  and  promise  fair  to  make  good  and  useful  men. 
We  thank  you,  our  friends,  for  all  the  kindness  and  help 
you  have  shown  us,  and  hope  you  will  continue  to  help 
us  till  we  can  stand  alone  and  walk.  We  will  do  our  best 
to  spread  this  religion  at  home,  and  send  it  to  all  nations. 
When  at  home  I  am  accustomed  to  hear  my  brothers 
talk;  but  since  I  came  here  I  can  not  understand  what 
is  said;  I  wonder  if  the  people  understand  one  another; 
for  I  see  but  little  effect  from  what  is  said;"  meaning  that 
the  Gospel  preached  had  but  little  visible  effect. 

I  then  followed,  and  gave  some  account  of  the  mission, 
the  work  of  God  among  the  Indians,  the  school,  farm,  and 
our  prospects  generally. 

Rev.  James  Gilruth,  who  visited  Between- the-logs  in 
his  last  illness,  which  was  pulmonary  consumption,  says: 
"On  my  first  visit  I  strove  to  be  faithful.     I  asked  him 


44()  ATJ  TOBIOGEAPHY    OF 

of  his  hope.  He  said  it  was  'the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ.' 
1  asked  him  of  his  evidence.  He  said  it  was  '  the  comfort 
of  the  Spirit.'  I  asked  him  if  he  was  afraid  to  die.  He 
said,  '  I  am  not.'  I  inquired  if  he  felt  resigned  to  go. 
He  said,  '  I  have  felt  some  desires  of  the  world,  but  they 
are  all  gone.  I  now  feel  willing  to  die  or  live,  as  the 
Lord  sees  best.'  Some  days  afterward  I  visited  him 
again.  I  found  his  mind  still  staid  on  God ;  but  he  was 
evidently  approaching  his  dissolution.  I  informed  him 
that  there  were  some  evidences  that  his  son — Richard 
Reese,  his  only  child — had  experienced  religion.  He 
rejoiced,  and  said,  '  I  wish  you  to  keep  him  at  the  mis- 
sion. It  is  the  best  place  for  him.  Keep  him  at  school ; 
keep  him  out  of  bad  company.'  A  few  days  after  this  he 
closed  his  life,  in  peace  with  God  and  man,  on  the  1st  of 
January,  1827,  about  the  forty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and 
was  buried  in  the  graveyard  by  the  meeting-house." 

I  preached  his  funeral  sermon  to  a  large,  attentive,  and 
weeping  company  of  his  people,  the  mission  family,  etc. 

Between-the-logs  was  rather  above  the  common  stat- 
ure, broad,  and  thin  built,  but  otherwise  well-propor- 
tioned, with  an  open  and  manly  countenance. 

Through  his  life  he  had  to  contend  with  strong  pas- 
sions, which,  through  grace,  he  happily  overcame  in  the 
end.  His  memory  was  so  tenacious .  that  he  retained 
every  matter  of  importance,  and  related  it,  when  neces- 
sary, with  a  minute  correctness  that  was  truly  astonishing. 
And  such  were  his  natural  abilities  otherwise,  that,  had 
he  received  a  suitable  education,  few  would  have  exceeded 
him,  either  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  or  as  a  statesman 
or  politician. 

Many  interesting  incidents  might  be  given  of  this  chief- 
tain; but  the  space  allotted  will  not  admit  of  a  more  ex- 
tended account.  Few  men  of  any  nation  or  tongue,  con- 
sidering the  circumstances  under  which  they  were  placed 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY.  447 

possessed  greater  natural  gifts  than  many  of  these  sons 
of  the  forest;  and  had  their  descendants,  as  well  as  the 
other  tribes  of  Indians,  received  that  attention  from  the 
Church  and  the  government  to  which  they  were  justly 
entitled  as  the  original  inheritors  of  the  soil,  they  might 
have  remained  strong  and  powerful  to  this  day.  But, 
alas!  the  doom  of  the  entire  race  appears  to  be  sealed, 
and  in  a  few  years  the  tide  of  Anglo-Saxon  population 
will  sweep  them  away,  and  nothing  will  be  left  to  tell  of 
their  existence  but  the  page  of  history. 

BIG-TREE. 

This  remarkable  Indian  was  a  chief  of  the  Bear  tribe. 
He  was  in  almost  every  respect  an  extraordinary  man. 
Above  six  feet  in  hight,  symmetrical  in  proportions,  and 
graceful  in  his  movements,  he  at  once  impressed  the  eye 
of  the  beholder  with  an  idea  that  he  was  in  the  presence 
of  one  of  nature's  greatest  sons.  He  had  a  Grecian  cast 
of  countenance,  broad,  expansive  forehead,  aquiline  nose, 
and  remarkably-regular  features. 

When  I  became  acquainted  with  him  he  was  about 
eighty  years  of  age.  He  presented  a  somewhat  singular 
appearance.  The  rims  of  his  ears  were  cut,  and  the 
inner  portion  of  them  perforated,  in  which  were  hung 
many  silver  ornaments,  such  as  the  Indians  have,  from 
time  immemorial,  decorated  themselves  with.  The  carti- 
lage of  his  nose  also  was  perforated,  from  which  de- 
pended a  curiously-wrought  silver  jewel.  His  hair  was 
cut  off  close  to  his  head,  with  the  exception  of  a  small 
portion  on  his  crown,  which  was  long  and  plaited,  in- 
closed in  a  silver  tube.  In  other  respects,  he  was  dressed 
in  the  usual  Indian  costume. 

Singular  as  was  the  appearance  of  this  chieftain,  no 
one  could  look  upon  his  commanding  person  without  feel- 
ing a  respect  for  him.     Age  had  not  bent  his  erect,  di^ 


448  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF 

nified  form,  or  dimmed  the  fire  of  his  dark,  expressive 
eye,  and  his  frank,  manly,  affable  manners  at  once  gained 
your  confidence. 

He  resided  on  the  banks  of  the  Sandusky,  near  the 
mission  house.  The  small  field,  which  he  brought  under 
a  high  state  of  cultivation,  yielded  him  corn,  beans, 
squashes,  and  other  vegetables  sufficient  to  supply  his 
wants.  In  the  center  of  this  field  stood  his  wigwam.  It 
was  of  singular  construction.  The  materials  out  of  which 
it  was  constructed  were  chiefly  corn-stalks  placed  up  on 
end  like  a  shock,  but  much  larger.  In  the  middle  of  this 
he  constructed  his  chimney,  made  of  bark  pealed  from  the 
trees.  The  chimney  was  set  on  poles,  supported  by  four 
forks  set  so  as  to  incline  inward,  and  thus  prove  a  brace 
to  each  other.  The  bark  was  then  wound  around  each 
of  these,  and  extended  from  one  to  the  other  so  as  to 
keep  them  in  their  place.  The  blades  on  the  inside  of 
the  corn-stalks,  forming  the  interior  of  the  Indian  dwell- 
ing, were  all  carefully  pealed  off,  while  those  on  the  out- 
side were  all  turned  down.  So  regularly  and  exactly  had 
all  this  been  done  that  the  whole  dwelling  was  impervious 
to  water  and  perfectly  warm  in  the  coldest  weather.  The 
only  avenue  through  which  light  or  air  could  be  admitted 
was  the  door,  which  was  small,  and  closed  with  bark. 
His  bed  was  ten  inches  from  the  ground,  and  was  con- 
structed as  follows .  Three  logs  of  wood  three  feet  long 
were  laid  crosswise,  at  proper  distances,  parallel  to  each 
other.  On  these  logs  were  placed  pieces  of  pealed  bark, 
lengthwise,  and  over  these  were  placed  his  skins  and 
blankets.  His  pillow  consisted  of  a  small  bundle  of 
clothes  and  his  tobacco-pouch.  The  furniture  of  this 
rude  dwelling  was  a  brass  kettle,  some  bark  kettles,  a 
wooden  tray,  and  bark  spoon.  He  had  also  a  gun,  toma- 
hawk, and  butcher-knife.  Several  horses,  which  got  their 
living  in  the  woods,  belonged  to  him. 


REV.    JAMES     B  .    FIMLEY.  449 

Thus  lived  this  venerable  old  man.  lie  passed,  daring 
Lis  threescore  years  and  ten,  through  many  vicissitudes 
of  fortune.  When  but  a  boy  he  was  in  Braddock's  de- 
feat, and  took  a  part  in  the  scenes  of  war  and  carnage. 
He  was  also  in  the  war  with  the  southern  Indians,  where 
he  was  taken  captive  by  the  Cherokees,  from  whom  he 
narrowly  escaped  with  his  life,  and,  after  traveling  more 
than  three  moons,  finally  succeeded  in  reaching  his  home. 
He  was  in  all  the  battles  fought  by  the  nation  with  the 
whites,  and  was  frequently  wounded.  He  related  to  me 
several  thrilling  accounts  of  hair-breadth  escapes.  From 
the  testimony  of  others  his  daring  and  bravery  were  un- 
equaled  in  the  annals  of  savage  warfare. 

But  what  gives  to  the  character  of  this  intrepid  chief 
the  greatest  interest  to  the  Christian  is  that  he  was  the 
very  first  of  his  nation  to  embrace  the  religion  of  Christ. 
He  was  converted  alone  in  the  woods,  and  the  history  of 
that  conversion  I  will  leave  him  to  tell  in  his  own  simple, 
native  manner:  "I  felt  so  great  a  weight  on  my  heart  I 
thought  it  would  crush  me  to  death.  I  fell  on  my  knees, 
and  cried  out,  '  0  Father,  have  pity  on  your  child  that 
you  have  kept  till  his  legs  and  arms  are  stiff  with  pains, 
and  his  whole  body  is  worn  out.  This  load  will  throw 
me  down,  and  I  shall  never  rise  again.  The  trees  to  me 
will  never  again  blossom  ;  the  corn  will  never  again  rustle 
in  my  ears,  and  I  shall  no  more  behold  the  harvest.  0, 
take  this  load  from  my  heart,  so  that  I  can  walk  forth 
again,  and  see  the  beauty  of  the  Great  Spirit  in  the  stars 
that,  like  watch-fires,  hold  their  places  on  the  borders  of 
the  hunting-grounds  beyond  the  great  river!'  While  I 
was  talking  to  the  Great  Spirit,  my  load  was  gone,  and 
I  felt  young  again.  My  heart  was  emptied  of  its  load, 
and  1  felt  light  and  happy,  and  could  run  like  a  deer  in 
the  chase."  This  son  of  the  forest  was  a  devoted  servant 
of  God.     In  the  winter  of  1824  he  was  called  to  leave  his 

29 


£50  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OP 

earthly  tabernacle,  and  from  his  rude  hut,  on  the  batik* 
of  the  Sandusky  river,  his  freed  spirit  went  up  to  that 
bright  world  where  the  saints  of  all  ages  and  nations 
shall  meet  and  live  forever. 

THE    MYSTERIOUS    INDIAN    CHIEFTAIN  AND     HIS    BRIDE. 

On  a  certain  day  there  came  to  the  mission  station,  ac- 
companied by  his  bride,  a  chief  from  some  unknown  tribe. 
His  appearance  and  manners  were  such  as  to  create  quite 
a  stir  among  the  Indians  of  the  village.  The  question  in 
every  mouth  was,  "Have  you  seen  the  strangers?"  and 
many  were  the  conjectures  about  their  nativity,  and  the 
place  of  their  residence.  They  were  affable  and  commu- 
nicative, at  least  as  much  so  as  any  civilized  Indians,  but 
to  all  the  queries  put  to  them  by  chiefs  and  others  in 
regard  to  these  points,  they  observed  an  unyielding 
silence.  They  were  evidently  in  cultivation  and  refine- 
ment far  above  the  ordinary  standard  of  Indian  charac- 
ter in  general. 

They  were  invited  not  only  to  all  the  hospitalities  of 
the  village,  but  to  the  festivities  where  young  chiefs  and 
dark-eyed  maidens  vied  with  each  other  in  imitating  their 
dress  and  manners. 

The  arrival  of  a  Kossuth  and  a  Jenny  Lind  among  the 
whites  in  one  of  our  cities  did  not  produce  a  greater  stir 
among  the  inhabitants  in  proportion  to  their  numbers,  than 
did  the  appearance  of  these  mysterious  strangers  in  our 
quiet  and  peaceful  Indian  village.  To  all  the  entreaties 
which  were  made  to  get  them  to  partake  of  the  festive 
cup,  they  offered  a  respectful  but  firm  declinature.  In- 
deed, in  this  respect,  they  presented  an  anomaly  in  the 
Indian  character  rarely  to  be  found,  especially  where  they 
are  associated  with  the  whites.  This,  so  far  from  lessen- 
ing, only  increased  the  interest  which  they  had  created  in 
the  minds  of  all.     They  were  looked  up  to  as  superior 


REV.     JAMES    B.     EINLET.  451 

beings,  and  such,  in  fact,  they  were  in  more  respects  than 
one. 

The  chief  was  a  perfect  model  of  manly  beauty,  and 
decidedly  the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw  of  any  race  or 
nation.  His  form  was  erect,  tall,  and  slender,  but  well- 
proportioned.  So  graceful  was  his  walk  and  so  dignified 
his  mien,  that  the  Indians  called  him  "  the  proud  chief." 
His  features,  though  of  the  Indian  cast,  were  remarkably 
regular  and  expressive.  His  eyes  were  not  large,  but 
dark  and  penetrating,  and  when  a  smile  would  play  over 
his  countenance  he  was  perfectly  fascinating. 

He  was  dressed  in  Indian  costume,  and  the  style  of  it 
indicated  taste.  The  Indians  usually  dress  fantastically, 
and  hang  about  their  person  a  profusion  of  ornaments. 
Not  to  have  some  of  them  would  be  to  renounce  the  In- 
dian style,  and  be,  so  to  speak,  entirely  out  of  the  fashion. 
The  dress  of  the  stranger  chief  would,  therefore,  from 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  not  be  devoid  of  ornament. 
His  outer  garments  were  made  of  the  finest  broadcloth. 
His  cloak,  or  mantle,  was  ornamented  with  thirty  silver 
crescents,  half  of  which  hung  on  his  breast,  and  the 
remainder  ornamented  the  back  part  of  his  dress.  His 
head-band,  which  was  richly  and  curiously  wrought,  was 
hung  all  round  with  beautiful  silver  pendants  or  drops. 
His  belt  was  of  the  richest  wampum,  interwoven  with 
beads  and  porcupine  quills.  His  leggins  were  decorated 
with  horse-hair  dyed  red,  most  beautifully  fringed,  and 
filled  with  silver  pendants.  His  rifle-barrel  and  stock 
were  inlaid  with  silver,  wrought  into  many  curious  de- 
vices. The  blade,  handle,  and  pipe  of  his  tomahawk 
were  also  inlaid  with  silver.  The  very  trappings  of 
their  horses,  which  were  high-spirited,  noble  animals 
were  also  in  keeping  with  their  costume.  In  fact,  all 
their  equipage,  saddles,  bridles,  buffalo  robes,  and  blank 
ets  were  highly  and  elaborately  ornamented. 


452  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

Notwithstanding  all  this  exterior  ornament,  a  close 
observer  could  discover  in  the  thoughtful  countenance 
of  the  chief  that  his  mind  was  not  engrossed  by  his  dress 
and  ornaments.  He  was  evidently  above  them  as  he  was 
above  his  red  brethren  in  cultivation  and  refinement;  and 
could  all  the  facts  be  known  in  regard  to  his  mysterious 
history,  it  would,  doubtless,  be  seen  that  he  was  under 
the  influence  of  a  purer  spirit  than  that  which  pervaded 
the  nation  in  general.  His  total  abstinence  from  the  ine- 
briating cup,  and  his  unwillingness  to  engage  in  the  wild 
and  boisterous  sports  and  festivities  of  the  Indians,  to- 
gether with  his  studied  silence  in  regard  to  every  thing 
belonging  to  his  kindred  and  locality — all  these,  while 
they  excited  a  world  of  curiosity  and  conjecture,  also 
would  lead  one  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  become  a 
Christian.  This,  however,  is  reserved  for  that  great  day 
when  all  mysteries  shall  be  revealed,  when  what  is  now 
unknown  and  deeply  buried  in  the  human  heart  beyond 
the  penetrating  ken  of  mortals,  or  what  the  waters  of 
oblivion  have  washed  away  from  the  records  of  the  world 
and  the  memory  of  man,  shall  be  revealed  and  restored. 

The  young  and  beautiful  bride  of  "the  proud"  chief- 
tain was  perhaps,  if  possible,  still  more  an  object  of  at- 
traction and  wonder.  She  was  courted  and  caressed  by 
the  village  maidens,  and  many  a  young  chief  culled  wild- 
flowers  from  the  banks  of  the  Sandusky,  with  which  he 
made  garlands  to  decorate  her  hair.  As  her  chief  was  a 
model  of  manly  beauty,  so  was  she  no  less  a  specimen 
of  beauty  to  the  fairer  sex. 

Her  skin  was  not  dark  like  the  Indian ;  but  she  was, 
perhaps,  what  might  be  called  a  brunette.  No ;  this  does 
not  describe  her  color,  if,  indeed,  it  can  be  described.  It 
was  clear  and  transparent,  though  tinged  with  brown. 
Her  hair  was  dark  and  glossy  as  the  raven,  and,  when 
not    incased  in   her  silver  band,   fell   in  rich   and  massy 


KEV.    JAMES    B.     PINLET  453 

ringlets  over  her  beautifully-rounded  shoulders.  Her 
eyes  were  soft  and  blue,  with  dark  arches  and  lids,  which 
gave  her  great  beauty  of  expression.  Her  teeth  were 
white  and  regular,  and  there  was  a  bewitching  sweetness 
about  her  looks  that  caused  all  the  maidens  to  love  her. 
Her  person  was  tall,  a  little  above  medium  hight,  and 
perfectly  symmetrical.  She  wore  a  dress  richly  embroid- 
ered and  decorated  with  jewels,  which  gave  her  a  mag- 
nificent appearance.  Her  morning  dress,  or  dishabille, 
consisted  of  a  robe  of  red  silk,  profusely  ornamented  with 
silver,  and  inclosed  at  the  neck  with  a  large  silver  clasp, 
while  the  waist  was  encircled  with  a  zone  of  the  same 
material.  Few  ladies  in  the  most  refined  circles  of  soci- 
ety, in  our  large  cities,  could  be  found  who  dressed  more 
richly,  or,  perhaps,  with  better  taste,  than  did  the  chief- 
tain's bride.  In  her  person  she  was  a  model  of  neatness, 
and  there  was  an  air  of  freshness  and  buoyancy  about  her 
that  ladies  pent  up  within  the  walls,  and  dust,  and  smoke 
of  the  city  could  scarcely  hope  to  acquire. 

This  mysterious  couple  did  not  pitch  their  tent  with  the 
other  Indians,  but  selected  a  spot  a  short  distance  from 
the  village.  Their  tent  was  composed  of  the  finest  mate- 
rials, and  furnished  in  a  style  perfectly  in  keeping  with 
every  thing  else  that  belonged  to  them.  None  knew 
where  they  came  from  or  to  what  nation  they  belonged, 
though  it  was  generally  believed  that  the  tribe  to  which 
they  belonged  had  become  extinct,  and  that  they  were 
the  last  of  a  nation  which  had  been  numbered  with  the 
forgotten  dead.  Rumor,  also,  with  her  attentive  ear  and 
ready  tongue,  said  that  the  proud  chieftain's  wife  was  a 
daughter  of  General  Butler,  that  she  had  been  reared  in 
affluence,  and  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  of  a  polite  edu- 
cation and  the  refinements  of  a  fashionable  life;  but  that, 
like  a  caged  bird,  when  opportunity  presented  itself,  she 
flew  to  her  beloved   wildwood,  and,  uniting  herself  with 


454  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

her  early  love,  they  sought  together  a  home  among  the 
peaceful  and  semi- Christian  Wyandotts. 

In  matters  connected  with  the  interests  of  our  mission 
they  both  took  a  lively  interest,  though  they  never  united 
with  the  Church.  There  may  have  been  reasons  for  this 
course,  which  to  a  highly-cultivated  Indian,  who,  never- 
theless, retained  his  Indian  prejudices,  were  quite  satisfac- 
tory. Certain  it  is  that  they  were  governed  in  all  their 
deportment  and  intercourse  with  the  villagers  by  the 
strictest  integrity  and  kindness. 

The  same  mystery  which  hung  so  impenetrable  a  vail 
over  their  history,  as  deeply  and  darkly  shrouded  their 
fate.  Whither  they  went,  none  knew — what  became  of 
them,  none  could  tell.  Many  were  the  Indian  surmises 
regarding  them.  Some  of  the  more  superstitious  thought 
they  were  spirits  sent  back  from  the  great  spirit-land,  and 
that  their  dress  and  equipage,  their  horses  and  dogs  were 
such  as  the  Great  Spirit  would  bestow  upon  the  good 
Indian  when  he  died.  » 

Another  conjecture,  however,  was,  perhaps,  the  more 
plausible.  I  have  before  remarked  that  they  did  not  asso- 
ciate but  little  with  their  Indian  neighbors,  and  many 
were  heard  to  say  of  the  chief,  "  He  too  proud  to  be  with 
Indian."  The  conjecture  to  which  I  allude  was,  that  a 
party  of  them,  filled  with  envy,  as  were  the  brethren  of 
Joseph  in  olden  time,  conceived  the  horrid  idea  of  putting 
them  to  death.  If  this  supposition  be  correct,  so  skill- 
fully did  they  plan  and  carry  into  execution  the  deed  of 
darkness,  that  no  one  knows  to  this  day  the  place  of  their 
graves.  The  Indians  were  as  careful  to  conceal  the 
graves  of  those  they  hated  in  life  as  they  were  solicitous 
of  their  death.  There  is  among  them  a  tradition  thai 
messenger-birds  can  be  sent  with  the  blessings  of  friends 
to  the  spirit-land.  Their  mode  was  to  take  unfledged 
birds  and  cage  them   till  they  were  able  to  fly;   and  then 


REV.    JAMES    B.    FINLEY=  4:55 

taking  them  to  the  grave,  after  kissing,  caressing,  and 
loading  them  with  blessings,  they  set  them  at  liberty,  that 
they  might  fly  away  with  their  messages  to  the  spirit- 
land.  Knowing  that  the  young  chief  and  his  blue-eyed, 
beautiful  companion  were  beloved  by  many  of  the  nation, 
and  that  their  graves  would  be  dear  to  them,  they,  per- 
haps, resolved  that  some  deep  glen  or  water-filled  cavern 
in  the  dark  river  should  forever  seclude  them  from  human 
vision. 


NOTE. 

1  have  many  retiiniscences  concerning  the  Indians  which  have  never 
7eb  been  published,  and  which  can  not  be  inserted  in  this  volume.  At 
tome  future  day,  should  Providence  spare  my  life,  I  may  be  able  to  giv« 
them  to  the  public.    Till  then  I  bid  my  readers  an  affectionate  adieu. 


THK    END. 


/ 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO— »      202  Main  Library  


LOAN  PERIOD 
HOME  USE 


ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1  -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation 

Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


APR  2  V  1979 


RfcTP      APRltf19^ 


JBttAWfe 


oc  i  i  y  w' 


SEP  8    1979 


^W9■ 


AUTO.  DISC. 


'M*  ^'li-»A      ^Y&31G 


3  198' 


APR1  8  1991 


REacnt,  jun 


h-o-y  I  % 


_ i 


0~133T 


«»*i 


JAW  1  8  1*98 


U.CBFBKei-EY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
FORM  NO.  DD6,  40m,  3/78  BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


YB  ?0066 


MS8838        _ 

F 

2  1   1979  j     .        j 

4l£T 


Fs 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


«ri  HTiiiiiTiT  mrnr>«m'*m<m* 


haiJs, 


^.:'i 


